Caught by the Past
by rythmteck
Summary: Sequel to 'Inconvenient' - A threat from Winn's past comes back to haunt the happy couple. No one comes out of life unscathed, but will they make it through this intact? Three lives are in the balance, and everything at stake. ::COMPLETE::
1. What's Been Happening

**Background Information:  if you haven't yet read 'Inconvenient,' this isn't going to make a great deal of sense to you.  I suggest you go read that before attempting to read this.**

Hey!  Look!  I did it!  Here's the beginning of the sequel to 'Inconvenient.'  Well, actually that would be the next chapter.  Which is actually the prologue.  _This is just a little bit of background stuff to fill you in on what Winn and Jack have been doing since the end of my last fic.  _

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This story takes place a little more than three years after the ending of 'Inconvenient.'  Winn and Jack have changed little.  Some of the biggest changes had occurred in Winn.  They aren't all that visible.  She is still a short, periodically irritable spitfire.  She still has short hair (although Jack did talk her into growing it out to shoulder length instead of chin length), and still has a tart tongue at times. Jack still enjoys irritating Winn at every opportunity, and she willing gets irritated because she knows that sooner or later he'll have to win his way back into her good graces, and that is ever so much fun for them both.  But she is no longer the skinny little waif that she appeared aboard the _Kestrel.  She has gained some weight – enough that her formally non-existent curves are now modest._

   Having had to relocate her life to the confines of a ship, she has perhaps had a harder time filling her days.  After a nearly disastrous blowup four months into their life together, she had discussed with Jack that her lack of meaningful occupation was driving her mad.  The result was that he filled her days with chores and lessons.  He even started teaching her more about fighting with a sword against not entirely honorable opponents, not that he had been happy about that since Winn had said after the first seven or eight sessions that they could not keep falling into bed halfway through the lesson.  But, she has gained skill as a swordswoman, and so Jack is content that she is somewhat safer with him than she was when they had first met.

   After their reunion in Tortuga, Winn and Jack did indeed go and visit grandfather Morgan, and Winn apologized for being so stubborn in the whole matter of getting married.  Now that she had indeed had time to think about it, and about herself, and about Jack, and about her and Jack, she saw that perhaps it _was_ a good idea to force the marriage.

   Nextly, the newlyweds went on a little trip to Madagascar and its thriving piratous populous.  After that, Jack managed to talk Winn into a visit to Singapore – and she later regretted it.  Well . . . kinda.  If you thought Tortuga was a town lacking in the "social niceties" and more than rife with morally questionable behavior, then let's just say that certain parts of Singapore were about ten times worse.  (Winn now knew where Jack had learned to slice corsets off women, and she was none too pleased about it.)  As you might believe, their stay in that part of the world was rather brief, even if Jack insisted upon showing Winn just what else he had learned there . . . but that's not really a topic for polite conversation.

   Other than that, the couple has spent the last three years roaming, pillaging, and looting.  For the most part, Winn stays in the couple's cabin while the _Black Pearl_ makes raids.  She, after all, still wants to be able to show her face in decent company, especially Port Royal.  But it's against her nature to hide from a physical fight, and so every once in awhile she'll dig out her old blond wig and show up on the deck with sword in hand, dagger and pistol strapped to her side.  

   The first time that happened, Jack nearly left her stranded with Richard and Cat.  He had been livid in the dangerously calm way he has.  That didn't last long.  When Winn refused to back down and follow his orders completely, he had then turned to ranting and raving – something he hadn't done in years.  Winn gave as good as she got.  Needless to say, she now is unafraid to show face in the midst of a fight, as long as she does indeed have her disguise on.  Jack even made her start wearing glasses again when they went onshore together.

   Jack also started spending more time on shore.  Winn, still a family person at heart, insisted upon their return from their "wedding trip" that she be able to visit her family still.  Actually she had said something more along the lines of, "Jack, I can't live the rest of my life on the decks of this ship.  I fell in love with you, not the sea or your ship.  I also love my family.  I want to spend time with them."

   He had replied, "You're _my wife _first now.  Yes, I understand you are still a sibling, and an aunt, and a friend, but that's secondary to me."

   "And my needs don't matter?"

   "The last time we paid attention to your need to be on land, you left me here for seven months while you traipsed over the entirety of England.  That is not happening again."

   Winn had lost her tempter at that point.  She understood how he felt.  She wouldn't want to be separated from him for that amount of time either.  But she still needed to visit her family occasionally.  So she proposed that once every three or four months, she be allowed two weeks in which to spend with whichever relative or friend had claimed her time.  Jack hadn't been happy, but he had agreed because he could see that Winn had made up her mind and either they could do this jointly, or she'd find a way to do it alone and he'd waste even more of their time together tracking her down to whichever family was harboring her.

   While marriage may have tempered them both, it by no means changed them.  True, they aren't who they had been, but they haven't changed so much that old friends or family wouldn't recognize them.  Any who doubt this only need listen in on an argument or disagreement between the two to realize that.  Winn can still be icily cold and sarcastic, and Jack still uses every unfair advantage to melt that ice.  He succeeds more than he fails – Winn isn't inhuman.

   Over all, the past years have been happy for them.  And if unhappy circumstances did arise at any time, then Winn kept that to herself.  Old habits do indeed die hard and lingering deaths, and are sometimes only buried to be resurrected later.  Fears may be laid to rest, but there are always others to take their place.

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How's that for ominous?  Don't worry – explanation will be forthcoming.  It may be several chapters down the road, but it will come up sooner or later.  And I'm sorry, but this may not be as humorous as 'Inconvenient' was.  In fact, it probably won't be.  I'll do what I can to throw in humor to keep things from getting too grim, but this fic is just going to be a bit not as humorous as the last.  The plot isn't leaving much room for witty and funny banter.  Witty banter yes, just not particularly funny.  Alas!  That is why I'll probably write side stories that are almost purely humor, and post those on the same days I write not so good feeling chapters of this.

   Speaking of chapters, my goal is to update every 36 hours at the least, and 48 at the most.  Things have picked up around here, not to mention the plot of this fic is a bit more involved and complicated than my last.  They may be days that I simply write drabbles and post that in a separate story.  Still Winn/Jack, and family, and friends – just not CbtP.  I can tell you what days I most likely **_WON'T_ be updating.  Those would be Sundays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays.  With any luck, I can stay one or two chapters ahead of you all though, and that way can update even on days that I don't have time to write.**

   That's enough to read for now.  Please send me any questions you have that weren't explained here, and I will elaborate on them as long as that won't mess with the mysteriousness of upcoming chapters.  So, read on through the prologue, enjoy, and reply, because I love hearing from you all.


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

Morgan had resurfaced.  After eleven years the pirate that had killed his son and then disappeared like the coward she was, had been seen again.  Thinking that it was safe to continue in her treacherous ways, especially now that she had become the whore of one Captain Jack Sparrow.  

  _ Just like a woman to depend on protection from someone just as low as she is.  She thought she was safe; that so much time had passed that he had forgotten his vow.  Little did she know that revenge was worth waiting for.  That revenge was only brought about by waiting for the opportune moment.  That waiting gave a man time to polish and perfect his revenge.  She would soon find that revenge was not a dish served cold, but one served with all the inexorable relentlessness of hell's hottest flames._

   She had taken a life from him.  He would do the same.  The wheel turned.  All debts had to be paid, all favors returned.  

   It was their turn.


	3. Calm Before the Storm

**Disclaimer – still not mine, although December 2nd is coming up pretty quick.  Don't own anything, not even the characters.  But I do own the ships . . . except for the _Pearl_ . . . that belongs to Jack.  All OC's belong to themselves.  If you don't believe me, ask them yourselves.**

**Author's Note – chapters are going to be a bit on the short side until I'm further into the story and have a better idea of what I'm doing. With any luck I can update on either Thursday or Friday.**

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"We're going to have to do something about that dog."  Winn, half asleep after spending a morning wasting time abed in the company of her husband, simply sighed.

   _So it might be true that Pigeon might be a tad bit . . . outsized.  In truth, the pup had grown in the promise of the oversized paws she had possessed as a puppy.  Winn grinned at a stray thought that passed through her endorphin hazed mind.  "Maybe I should have named her 'Albatross,' and then we could call her 'Albie.'  Pigeons aren't big, but albatrosses are."_

   Jack looked askance at the woman lying on her stomach at his side.  "Love, what does that have to do with anything?"

   "Umm . . . nothing?"  Winn yawned.  "I can't think right now."  Suddenly, the impact of Jack's earlier statement dawned on her.  "What do you mean, 'we have to do something about' Pige?  What's wrong with her?"

   "Was I the only one in this bed a few minutes ago?"

   Winn smiled and buried her head in her husband's shoulder, embarrassed.  "I think I was . . . busy . . . with other things at the time."

   Jack gave an 'oh yeah' grin at the implication in her statement, but then remembered his original complaint.  "That dog is just too big."

   Raising her head from his shoulder, Winn prepared to defend her companion.  "No she's not.  She's just a tad energetic."

   "She just attacked me!"  

   The look of righteous indignation on Jack's face was too much.  Winn tried to suppress her amusement as she said, "Because she's loyal to me.  I'm sure she just thought that we were playing."

   Jack rolled over and wrapped his wife in his arms securely.  Nuzzling her neck, he whispered suggestively, "We were.  That was the problem."

   Before things could progress any farther, the couple was interrupted by a rather loud banging on the door.  "Capt'n!  There's a ship in sight, sir!  She's in distress!"

   "So am I," muttered Jack.  Winn tried to laugh quietly, but Jack merely gave her a near lethal glare in return for her pains.  She shrugged unapologetically and kissed him under his chin.

   "What are your orders, Captain Sparrow?"

   Still glaring at his rather unsympathetic wife, albeit without much actual malice, Jack called out to the waiting crewman, "I'll be there shortly.  Tell Mr. Gibbs to prepare the ship and hoist the flag."  The sound of retreating footsteps was the only answer to these commands.

   Rolling off Winn rather reluctantly, Jack sighed, "Duty calls."  Winn nodded in agreement, and then got out of bed, groaning as she did so.  Watching from his prone position on the bed, Jack asked, "What're you doin', love?"

   Pulling on a shirt as she spoke, Winn replied, "Getting ready.  What does it look like I'm doing?"

   Jack rolled his eyes.  This was a constant debate between the two.  Jack wanted to keep Winn in this room where she'd be the safest, and she wanted to be on the deck where she would only be as safe as he could keep her.  _Bloody woman is too stubborn for her own good._  The thought wasn't bitter though – he happened to respect her ability to hold true to a position.  Except when that position countered his, then it was an aggravating nuisance.

   "Winnie, can't you just stay in here and keep the bed warm?  I doubt that this is going to be difficult or time consuming.  I'll wrap things up quick as I can, then I'll come back here and we can continue to while our day away in dalliance and the pursuit of dissipated activities."

   Well aware of what Jack was attempting to do, Winn raised one eyebrow and asked, "Were you really planning on wasting the entire day in here, Jack?"

   "I'm not sure I'd call it 'wasting,' love.  There's usually some kind of regret associated with the act of wasting something.  I never regret time spent with you."

   The look of innocence on Jack's face and the blatant romance in his voice and words assured Winn that he was trying to manipulate her into staying hidden away while he took risks out there.  She had to admit that at times she enjoyed feeling protected by her husband, but being coddled was another matter altogether.  Especially when he saw nothing wrong with taking risks that he'd give her a thorough reaming for taking.

   "Near four years of marriage and you still don't trust me to take care of myself."  She saw Jack wince at the irritation evident in her voice.  She knew that it wasn't because he feared her temper, but because he was just as sick of arguing over the same material as she was.  "I happened to have done a pretty good job of keeping myself in one piece before I met you, Jack.  Even in the midst of firefights and careening drunks precariously swinging swords at the doubles produced by too much drink.  But why is it that the moment I step on this ship you no longer trust me to stay alive?  Even when you know how capable I am with a sword?  Or have you not noticed?"

   Getting out of bed himself, Jack replied, "I _did_ notice, and I _do_ trust you.  It's the other crew that I don't trust not to injure you.  You know what 'respectable' sailors think when they see a woman on a pirate ship."

   "Why should I care what strangers think?"

   "Because they won't treat you with the respect due a lady if they think you're a common strumpet."

   Winn gave him a look that was something along the lines of 'get serious'.  "Jack, _you_ don't always treat me with the 'respect due a lady,'" she pointed out as she fastened the buttons of her breeches.

   "Yes, but I'm your husband."  It was Winn's turn to roll her eyes.  "Anyway, my point was that you'll be fair game to them."

   "Not if they're smart."  Winn walked to the bed and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck.  "And how is it different if I make myself fair game if you're the fish that they'd all love to catch?  Have you ever thought that maybe I like to keep an eye on you too?"

   Jack was starting to look uncomfortable with this conversation.  "I don't know what you're talking about, love."

   "We both know that you never let me out of sight whenever we've engaged another ship.  Even in the midst of the most chaotic fights you're paying more attention to me at times than the person you're fighting, which is, if you ask me, fair foolish.  Someday that inattention is going to get you into trouble, and then where will I be?"

   Exasperated, Jack pointed out, "If you stayed here, I wouldn't have to 'keep an eye on you,' and would therefore be better able to concentrate on my work instead of worrying about you."

   "If I stayed in here, not only would I go mad with boredom, but I'd most likely go mad with worry as well."  Resting her head against his chest, determined to win this round of the argument, Winn murmured, "Can't we just agree to keep an eye on each other?"

   Jack growled low in his throat, knowing that he was about to give in.  Grabbing her arms, he thrust her away from him until he could meet her eyes.  "Just because I happen to be inescapably emotionally attached to you, doesn't mean that you get to fight unfairly, Winnie.  That's my job.  You're supposed to appeal to my mind and better sense, and convince me with your undoubtedly flawless logic."

   Winn knew she had just won, and also knew that Jack was desperately trying to hide the fact that he'd do what was in his power to see her happy, even if it meant doing something he wasn't particularly fond of.  Snuggling back into his chest she said in a playfully innocent tone, "But I thought I _was_ appealing to your mind."

   "I'd rather you appeal to the mind that doesn't want to keep you in bed for days on end, love," Jack said wryly.  Giving her a brief kiss, he let her go.  "We'd best get ready.  The ship may be in distress, but there's no proof that her crew is."

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**Author's Thanks to: **Savvy-Z, Niamh McNamara, bobo3, lilitaliandragon, jackfan2, captainsparrowsfeistylass, BeBe, eva, KawaiiRyu, Savvy Sparrowhawk, mooney, poppet, ari Greenleaf, siremaik, Ariandir


	4. Storm Breaks

**Disclaimer – only going to say this once.  I don't own any of the characters, props, or plots from PotC.  Everything else is either a product of my own imagination, inspired by a review, or a conglomeration of my friends' personalities.  So there.**

**A/N:  Sorry this took so long, but the first half of the chapter was being a pain in the butt and wouldn't let me write it.  That and there's this OUATIM story that is demanding to be written, but I told it to wait its turn, and now instead of Jack Sparrow I keep writing Agent Sands.  It's just really annoying.  Enjoy this.  I'll try to have more up tomorrow or Sunday.**

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**Last Time:**   

"So am I," muttered Jack.  Winn tried to laugh quietly, but merely got a near lethal glare in return for her pains.  She shrugged and kissed him under his chin.

   "What are your orders, Captain Sparrow?"

   Still glaring at his rather unsympathetic wife, albeit without much actual malice, Jack called out to the waiting crewman, "I'll be there shortly.  Tell Mr. Gibbs to prepare the ship and hoist the flag."  The sound of retreating footsteps was the only answer to these commands.

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"Really Jack, I think you're making a big deal out of nothing.  It's barely more than a scratch.  And if anything more serious was wrong, I doubt I'd still be on my feet."

   "You're not.  I'm carrying you."  It was true.  Jack was in the midst of carrying his stubborn bride down the stairs to the galley were Leech not only reigned supreme, but also saw patients.

   "And whose idea was that?  It wasn't mine."  Winn honestly couldn't see what the fuss was.  Yes, she had nearly caught a pistol ball in the arm, but she hadn't.  Yes, she had a nasty flesh wound and a powder burn or two, but it wasn't as if she were near death.  "Truly, Jack, I can walk."

   "Has it ever occurred to you that I simply enjoy having you in my arms?" Jack asked innocently.

   "Has it ever occurred to you that I'm not so simple as to fall for an explanation like that?"  Winn mimicked her husband's tone.  "We both know that's not what has you acting as if I'm suddenly as delicate as porcelain, and twice as fragile."  _No, that is the sole result of a scratch.  A **scratch** of all things!  "Just think of this as a pleasant reminder of our first meeting.  After all, a scratch was your excuse for bringing me onboard the __Pearl in the first place."_

   Suddenly fed up with his wife, Jack set Winn down on her feet.  Her ability to ignore whatever made her uncomfortable continued to amaze and frustrate him.  Grabbing her arms before she could continue to the galley, he said in a very low and very serious voice, "We both know that's not what's bothering me.  And if you had any sense whatsoever, you would be bothered too."

   "No Jack.  I can't be bothered."  Winn too became serious.  "You still have no idea, do you?"  She searched his eyes.  "I'm a coward by nature, Jack."  He started to shake his head, ready to dispute her words, but she didn't give him the chance to interrupt.  Raising her voice slightly, she continued before he could interrupt, "Every time I face something new or unsettling, I have to steel myself from running and never stopping.  And every once in awhile, yes, I will ignore something for as long as it takes for me to stop feeling this mass of panic squeezing the life out of me.  But I _never forget.  If you're thinking that I'm not taking that little scene up on the main deck seriously, then you're badly mistaken.  That man was out for my blood, and I know that as well as you, and once I'm able to, I will do all I can to figure out why and then we will both eliminate the threat.  I've worked hard for this life, Jack.  I'm not about to give it up or do something foolish to put it all at risk, so _don't_ accuse me of being thoughtless."_

   Jack smoothed the hair out of Winn's face.  "I just want you to know that I'm here, Winnie.  You're not the only one who's had to work hard.  I didn't go through all that waiting, and fighting, and persuading, _and_ a wedding ceremony only to lose this."  While the words were only now voiced, after nearly four years, the sentiment behind them was not.  

   Neither Jack nor Winn were all that good at expressing emotions verbally.  More often they were expressed through decipherable looks, hidden sketches, soft touches, or even the notes of a wood flute.  There were times that their coupling was so rife with emotion and meaning that Winn would feel tears building along with the passion.  Every fight, every disagreement only gave inaudible testimony to the strength and depth of their feelings for each other.  Maybe they didn't mention love every day, but both knew it was there, and both knew how lucky they had been to find the other, even if it was never said aloud.

   Captain and wife stood looking at each other for long minutes, both seeing the realization that life had come calling, the fear of what the death of one would mean to the other, the need to hide away and reaffirm their decision to carve out a life together.

   Finally breaking the moment of silent communication, Winn took Jack's hand and said, "Let's go see Leech, if it will make you feel any better."

Later that afternoon, Jack stood at the _Black Pearl's helm, his hand guiding his ship, his mind winding through a series of complicated twists and turns.  His wife was asleep in their cabin, the events of this morning having had more affect on her than she was willing to admit.  He supposed he should simply be grateful that she was alive to be stubborn, but the bigger threat that had been revealed wiped out any satisfaction he may have gotten from that small consolation._

   This morning had been a bit of a surprise.  Yes, the ship that his crew had spotted had been in distress.  Considerable distress in fact.  He'd go so far as to deny its being a ship in favor of calling it a derelict hulk of driftwood.  Unfortunately, the same could not be said of her crew.

   Whatever had possessed the crew of an English merchantman to lay a trap like that, he'd never know.  _Of course I know, or can at least postulate.  Either cargo they had been carrying had been stolen by another crew, or they had found no market to sell it in, so they had turned pirate.  And he was ready and willing almost begging himself to believe that.  There was just one little problem.  The fact that only a third of that crew had been sailors.  If he had to guess, the rest had been mercenaries.  Of course, that brought up the question of who hired mercenaries and then set them out to lay a rather uncertain trap off a no-name island in the middle of nowhere.  And if they had found what they had been waiting for._

   Things had started out normally enough.  When he and Winn had appeared on deck – Winn in wig and spectacles, he in full pirate costume – the _Pearl_ had been close enough to the other ship to see that it was in shape neither to sail nor resist a boarding party.  He had wondered why they were even bothering to board; it didn't look as if the ship held anything worth seizing, but his crew was spoiling for a fight.  That was enough to convince him.  Unhappy crews had a way of turning on their captains, as he had discovered the hard way.  If this worked off a bit of energy, then that was good enough for him.

   He and his crew had watched as the other ship ran up a white flag.  Surrender.  Forfeit.  Capitulation.  Success.  But in the moment before the _Pearl_ came within firing range, the other ship had prematurely fired at them.  At the time, Jack hadn't known what they were thinking.  There was no way the other ship could come out in one piece in a sea battle.  It was more likely that the explosions of the cannon would shake the ship to bits than the possibility that they would be able to drive the _Pearl off.  Such arrogance and stupidity annoyed Jack, so he had given the order to return fire._

   After thoroughly disabling the other ship, he had led the _Pearl_ in closer, determined to teach this crew the error of firing on a ship under false pretenses.  It was fine for a ship flying the Jolly Roger, but this one was sailing under a Union Jack.  So he had ordered his crew to board, after all, there were frightfully few men on deck.  That's when all hell had broken loose.

   Within moments of throwing and securing grapples and ropes, the doors and hatches leading to the cabins and lower decks had flown open, men pouring out of their gaping mouths.  Extremely well armed men.  In that moment, he had wished that he had ordered Winn to stay in the cabin, that he had locked her in himself.  Then he was in the midst of battle and could no longer count regrets.

    Jack and his crew and fought, and fought, and fought.  Luckily for him, he kept the hands of his crew well armed, their stomachs well feed, and their pockets well lined, otherwise, it would have been slaughter.  As it was, they held their own, enough for Jack to take a break from swinging his bloodied cutlass and look around for his wife.  She too was holding her own, her own blade showing red.  He felt a strong burst of pride and pleasure at the sight.  Truly, no pirate could ask for a better mate.

   But even the best swordsmen can be beaten by foul play.  Just as Winn was turning to engage another man, a shot rang out, and Winn cried out as her sword fell from her hand.  Jack had felt a moment of unnaturally strong and irrational fear, afraid that he had just lost his wife.  However, her next cry was one of anger, not pain, and his fear retreated, leaving a mirror of her own anger in its place.

   He had made his way through the crowd of men, quickly dispatching anyone who dared so much as to step in his way.  He had been but a few feet from his wife when a hand had jerked her out of reach and he had found himself in a situation he had always dreaded.  Finding an emotion used against him.

   "Well, lookee what we gots 'ere.  Jack Sparra' and his 'ore wife.  I know a gent 'oo's gonna be _very_ pleased t'see you."  Bringing a knife up to Winn's throat he had said, "Tell your men to'drop their weapons, or th' miss 'ere is gonna find that red is 'er favorite color."

   Jack had met Winn's eyes as he debated with himself.  Yes, he treasured and valued his wife, but he was also a captain and responsible for his crew.  Winn saw he was torn, and he saw that she saw.  Her eyes filled with first understanding, and then determination.  His had filled with what he was sure had been pure and absolute horror.  The next thing he or the other man had known, Winn was standing over her former captor, his sword in her left hand, her foot planted firmly on his groin, and a thin trail of blood slowly trailing down her neck.

   With the fall of this man, the other crew had seemingly lost heart in their fight.  _Well, we know who the leader here is._  Jack had ordered his crew to round up the fighters and throw them off the side of the boat facing away from the _Pearl.  _They had all managed to swim to the tiny island off the port side before they ship's load of gunpowder had blown their transportation into splinter sized pieces.  The only thing they took of the ship was the leader who had threatened Winn, and the ship's flag.

"Capt'n?"  Jack looked up from his thoughts to see Gibbs at his elbow.

   "What is it Gibbs?"  The man had a troubled look on his face.  Whatever news he had, Jack knew he wasn't going to like it.

   "Well Capt'n.  I think that you might want and go see to our visitor."

   Jack turned back to surveying the sea in front of him.  "And why would I like to do that?  To reassure myself that he is riding in the lap of luxury, that no difficulty has befallen him?  Let the man wait.  Let him rot down there until I feel like talking to him, and then he'll wish that I had forgotten about him."

   "That may be difficult, Jack."  

   Sparrow turned to his first mate, his lips pursed and his brow wrinkled in comical and sarcastic inquiry.  "Why's that?"

   "He's dead."

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**Author's Thanks: **I'm sorry, but I had no time to go through and write personal ones to everyone.  I'm going to try to get around to that sooner or later, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

So, in that case, here's a general thanks.

BeBe, Savvylicious, jigglykat, lilitaliandragon, Mrs.NC, PeleAmelika, bobo3, mooranda, KamikazeCreamPuff, captainsparrowsfeistylass, Phoenix Flight, TaraRose, KawaiiRyu, Erica, Bright Eyes, Penny, jackfan2, Ariandir, Rose, eva, SuzzieQue, Mooney


	5. Storm Warnings

**Author's Note: sorry this one took a bit of time.  Actually, I can't remember if it took awhile or not.  My memory is not so good at the moment.  I've been housesitting again and lacking on sleep for the past week or so.  And I was woken up at 7am by a friend telling me to keep the worship team from dispersing after church because we were going to have practice, and he'd try to get there as soon as he could . . . Sunday is my ONLY day to sleep in during the week and I cherish it. **

**Sorry.  On with the story.  A bit of background and explanation going on here.**

**_VOCAB_****_ WORD OF THE DAY:_ **'crip'ler' – two cannon balls connected by a thick chain that is used to cut through the mast of a ship.  Or that's what I decided.  They used something like that on PotC, which is how Will ended up trapped on the _Interceptor right before it exploded._****

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**Last Time:**

"Capt'n?"  Jack looked up from his thoughts to see Gibbs at his elbow.

   "What is it Gibbs?"  The man had a troubled look on his face.  Whatever news he had, Jack knew he wasn't going to like it.

   "Well Capt'n.  I think that you might want and go see to our visitor."

   Jack turned back to surveying the sea in front of him.  "And why would I like to do that?  To reassure myself that he is riding in the lap of luxury, that no difficulty has befallen him?  Let the man wait.  Let him rot down there until I feel like talking to him, and then he'll wish that I had forgotten about him."

   "That may be difficult, Jack."  

   Sparrow turned to his first mate, his lips pursed and his brow wrinkled in comical and sarcastic inquiry.  "Why's that?"

   "He's dead."

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Jack hated to be caught off guard.  True, surprise came with the title of 'pirate,' but normally, Jack was wary enough to be able to tell when something bad was coming.  Under other circumstances, he would have left the area for a awhile until things cooled down, but these weren't normal circumstances.  Nothing concerning his wife was ever normal.

   He had indeed gone down to the brig to inspect his prisoner, and as Gibbs had reported, the man was indeed very dead.  He had felt his veins swell with anger at the sight, felt robbed of his prey.  He had been looking forward to prying answers from the man who had threatened his wife, and who seemed to represent a bigger threat than they knew how to prepare for.

  Squatting down by the dead mercenary, Jack visually examined him for the cause of death.  No stab wounds, no bullet wounds, no blood at all.  He hadn't hung himself.  That pretty much left poison as the only option left.  Jack leaned down and smelled the man's lips.  There was a faint trace of almonds, residual left from cyanide.  

   Standing up, he stared down impassively into the face of this man who represented an unknown enemy.  "Search him for anything out of the ordinary, any information of who might have sent him or what his task was.  When you're done, throw the body overboard.  Make sure he's bleeding when he goes in.  I want the sharks to take care of him before he ever even gets close to Davy Jones' locker."

   He left before he could see the reactions of his crew.  At the moment all he required was obedience and the assurance that his wife was still safely asleep in their cabin.  He had some thinking to do and some decisions to make, and somehow he knew that it wasn't going to make Winn very happy.

Winn tossed her head on her pillow, lost in the depths of a reoccurring dream.  In it she was onboard the _Tide's Raptor_, the proud captain of a pirate ship, and fire tore and scrabbled at her belly, the pain lasting for days, weeks.  In sleep it chased her, during the day it controlled her mind.  On and on, never ceasing, never decreasing.  Lately it had been that every time she had this dream she had woken up with terrible muscle cramps, like those that plagued some women during their time of month.  And fear.  Fear was always her companion after this dream.  Fear of losing something she didn't know she had.

   This time when she awoke, it was to a quiet and creaking cabin.  Her hands clutched at her belly before she had time to remember the wound to her arm.  It flared with pain, but her belly was fine.  Not cramps.  The fear was still there, but unfounded, hovering.  Waiting.  But she could ignore it until it decided to pounce.

   Winn relaxed until her arm no longer scolded her for such thoughtless and sudden movement.  She lay with her eyes closed, listening to the muffled sounds of life aboard ship.  She hadn't ever thought that she had missed this in her time on land, but she had.  Another need that Jack had managed to meet and fill without realizing.

   _Jack.  At the thought of her husband's name a sudden need sprung up inside her.  It wasn't new or unusual this desire to find herself held tightly against her lover's body, to feel his love, his pride in her, his joy in her body even as he felt it.  But it was unusually strong after today's fight as it often was whenever one of them was injured.  The need to reaffirm that they were both well and alive was always overpowering. _Where is he?__

   Opening her eyes, she looked around the cabin and found the object of her thoughts.  He was sitting at the table, a half empty bottle of rum grasped loosely in his hand, eyes pointed her way but unfocused, a brooding expression on his face.  Seeing that he was currently oblivious to the world and to her, she took this opportunity to examine him.  For a pirate pushing forty, time and fate had been kind to him.  His face was lined by nothing more than the sun and wind, his hair still as dark as it had ever been, his eyes as clear, his hands as steady, his body as slim.  

   She sighed in contentment.  Truly, she had been blessed beyond her wildest imaginings when whatever deity that controlled her fate had given her the chance to belong to him and he to her.  The only thing that displeased her at the moment was the fact that he was brooding.  He should be over by her side assaulting her even as she spoke . . . thought.  He had already brooded as Leech had cleaned and dressed her arm, had most likely brooded the entire time he had been on deck and she had been asleep, and was still brooding.  Surely he had brooded enough.  He had to stop.  She was fine – a little shaken perhaps, but basically unharmed.  She had to snap him out of this, and there was only one way that she could be sure would refocus his attention.

   "Jack?"

Jack walked into his cabin quietly, not wanting to disturb his wife.  She was indeed asleep, her shoulder length hair splayed out around her head in a dark corona, her breathing deep and even.  She looked so peaceful, so harmless, that it was hard to believe that she was the same woman who had stood on the deck of a besieged ship this morning, bloody sword in hand, eyes alight with adrenaline and battle.  If it was in his power, he'd keep her that way forever.  _But then I'd miss moments like this._

   Not wanting to sidetrack himself with how desirable his wife was, Jack walked over to the low cabinet that held his liquor.  He opened it and removed a bottle that was half full of rum.  If he wanted to do serious thinking, then he needed a serious drink.  Bringing his find over to the table that had a spot of prominence in the center of the room, he set it down, then shed his boots and belts, throwing coat and vest over the back of one chair as he took a seat in another.  Quickly, he took a drink of his rum thinking that the sooner he was mildly drunk, the sooner he'd have the courage to think about what he must.

   Five hearty swallows later, he was mired deeply in his sobering thoughts.  _Which is why I'm doing m'best to get drunk.  He had come so close to loosing her today, had begun to doubt if he should be keeping her on the __Pearl at all.  Life on the sea was harsh and violent, and often short. Perhaps he should send her to her grandfather to keep her safe.  At least until the mystery that had been handed them had been solved.  Until she was out of danger._

   He could come by every now and then to ensure that she was still safe, and then leave her.  The thought of having to leave her made his insides cramp with pain, but wasn't it better to ensure her safety than to ensure his lust was always satisfied?  What good would it do him to keep her by his side if they could be blindly sailing deeper and deeper into danger?

   "Jack?"  His thoughts were disturbed by the woman on the bed.  He hadn't thought she was awake.

   He took another swig of rum before asking, "What is it, love?"  Even to him, his voice sounded tired and defeated.

   "Come to bed, Jack.  Come hold me.  Come take my mind off of everything but us."  He heard the raw longing her voice, heard it tremble with need.  It reminded him of the times that he had felt her tremble because of him.

   "Winn . . . ."

   "Please, Jack.  Come to bed.  I need you."  She watched, feeling a hand grip her heart when the blank look in his eyes didn't even waver at her request.  He wasn't going to let go of whatever was bothering him.  Wasn't going to come to her.  She had a sudden and terrible image of him leaving her and going off alone to find what and who had come calling to collect on her.  She couldn't let that happen.  What had happened today had mainly concerned her, not him.  She had been the target, not her husband.  There was no way he was going to leave her to find the answers to this puzzle.  If anyone should be leaving, it should be _her to protect __him, not the other way around.  She _had_ to take his mind off this before he decided to do something stupid that she wouldn't be able to talk him out of._

   _One last try._  "Please.  I had a nightmare, and I want you to make me forget it."  Putting all her longing and desire in a single syllable, she breathed a single request to the silent man sitting across the room from her.  Please . . . ."

   It was if a dam broke inside Jack.  In the next second, Winn found herself crushed in his arms, her lips being attacked with barely restrained desperation, and her heart throwing itself at Jack's yet again.  _Once more into the breech . . . ._

Later that afternoon, the couple took the opportunity to talk.  Neither wanted to be the one to breech on subject that was utmost on their minds, so Jack chose a relatively safe one.  Relatively safe because it would leave the topic of conversation up to Winn and then she could bring up the threat against her life, and he could tell her what he was thinking.

   "That must have been some nightmare.  It took quite a bit to get it off your mind."

   Winn sighed.  She should have known he would have opted for this conversational gambit.  Well, she didn't want to bring up the other one any more than he did, and telling a story from her past didn't seem too high a price to pay to avoid doing so.

   "It was more a bad memory than a nightmare.  But I keep having it, and each time it seems so real, so recent.  It scares me."

   "Maybe if you talked about it, it wouldn't scare you so much anymore."

   "Maybe it you just held me for the rest of my life, I wouldn't have it anymore because you make me feel safe."  Winn still lay in her husband's arms, her back pressed against his chest, her hands crossed over the arms he had crossed over her waist.  She felt his breath on her skin as he exhaled in bemused frustration.

   "Come now, love.  Tell me a story like you do your nieces and nephews."

   "You want a story?"  She felt him nod against the back of her head.  "Fine.  'Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess, and –"

   "You know that's not what I meant, Winnie."

   She smiled gently.  "Yes, I know."  Taking a deep breath, she started to explain the events of the day that had been haunting her sleep off and on for the past three years or so.

She had only been eighteen years old at the time, and a young eighteen, but both Grandfather and Grandmother had thought it would be a good idea for her to go out and prove she had the skills necessary to survive in this part of the world, in a family notorious for privateering and pirating alike.

   She was in her blond wig, a pair of spectacles fixed to her head with a piece of twine.  Breeches, a tattered shirt, and several wide and battered leather belts completed her disguise.  She would have looked like an underfed cabin boy, were it not for the coil of blond hair the wig had come with.  A woman's wig.  If she were going to do this, she at least wanted to do it as a woman, not as someone completely alien to herself.

   "It'd be best to rake them on their starboard side, and fire a 'crip'ler' at 'em, Capt'n."  She had turned to her first mate, a man used to sea and her ways, used to the mysteries of naval warfare, and used to training the next generation of Morgans in taking their rightful place in the sea's food chain.  This man had taken her father aboard as a cabin boy, had trained Ry and to some extent Marcus.  And now her.  If he had ever balked at the idea of teaching a woman, he had never said anything to her or acted resentful. 

   Nodding, she had said, "That sounds appropriate."

   "Can you tell me why 'that sounds appropriate'?"  As she had explained her thinking, the crew had followed out their instructions.  A single blast from their cannon had crippled the other ship, belonging to a minor Italian merchant family by the insignia, by felling their mainmast.  Her crew was skilled, a quality ensured by her newly found grandfather.

   So skilled were they, that the Italian ship was boarded and her crew set to surrender before any trouble came up.  Apparently the owner of the merchant line had sent his son along with the shipment to ensure that the family's coffers were filled as much as possible.  Unfortunately, the boy had read too many novels about pirates and their blood-thirsty ways.  Even more unfortunately, he turned out to be quite the persuasive speaker.  Winn's crew had faced an all out rebellion by the captured men who were all the while yelling things like, "Proud Italy," and "Italy never surrenders."  Winn, who was being deferred to by her crew as captain, had been the first to come under attack.

   It had been a brief but bloody battle.  Both crews skilled, one having the upper hand.  Winn had dispatched one man with her cutlass (more by luck than actual ability) before her crew came to her defense.  It was unlikely that she would have survived that battle of they had not.  But the men were either loyal to her or to her grandfather, so defend her they did.

   Within twenty minutes the Italians were once more subdued; the man who had incited them cut off from the rest and gagged so he could cause no more trouble.  Though she didn't relish the duty, Winn had to deal with the man, explain to him how foolhardy it was to attack pirates after surrendering.  And she had.  

   She had explained how she might come to think that they didn't like pirates if they fought, and that hurt her feelings.  And when her feelings got hurt, then _someone_ had to pay, and it was never her.  So all the young man had gained for his pains was an empty hold and some depleted rations.  But he was lucky she was leaving them all alive instead of sending them down for a closer look at the inhabitants of the ocean floor.  So really, he should be thankful that Captain Morgan, whom she happened to be, was taking pity on him.

   The man ("man" - he couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen) had listened throughout her entire speech, glowering and glaring.  Then, before she or her men could react, he had managed to free an arm and fire a pistol at point blank range directly at her abdomen.

  What came next had been an accident, truly.  With the abrupt pain of the bullet tearing through muscle and flesh, Winn's hand had contracted around the pistol she had been idly gesturing with.  It had gone off, firing its single round directly into the man's heart.  His death had been instantaneous.  Hers had hovered for weeks before deciding it wasn't yet her time.

   But in the back of her mind she had never forgotten what that hovering had felt like.

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**Author's Thanks: Rose, savvy sparrowhawk, BeBe, LaDyGoMe409, Bright Eyes, Lieke, KawaiiRyu, SuzzieQue, PeleAmelika, captainsparrowsfeistylass, jackfan2, bobo3, eva, jigglykat, mooney, lilitaliandragon**

Sorry if I missed anyone.  I forgot to keep track.  Love you all. But you know that already.  : )


	6. Inclement Weather

**Author's Note:  I'm so sorry this took so long to get out!  I really must apologize.  I never wanted to be one of those people who update once a week.  I really miss the opportunity to update everyday, but circumstances are against me now that summer is over and fall is in full swing.**

**Also, I've been fighting to come up with a reasonable storyline that will keep everyone in character in the next few chapters.  I know where I want to go with this story, it's just keeping Jack in particular in character that is giving me fits of perplextion and bouts of whining.  I've had to go back and reread parts of 'Inconvenient' to make sure that I know what I'm doing.  For some reason Agent Sands keeps coming through instead of Jack Sparrow and it's driving me crazy.  I refuse to write more than one story at a time, so I'm making Sands wait his turn, but he's not very patient.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter.  I will strive to get another one up tonight, and one up tomorrow, and hopefully Sunday.  Author's thanks in the next chapter.**

**Thank you all for your patience.**

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**The time that was last:**

  What came next had been an accident, truly.  With the abrupt pain of the bullet tearing through muscle and flesh, Winn's hand had contracted around the pistol she had been idly gesturing with.  It had gone off, firing its single round directly into the man's heart.  His death had been instantaneous.  Hers had hovered for weeks before deciding it wasn't yet her time.

   But in the back of her mind she had never forgotten what that hovering had felt like.

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Winn came to herself after finishing her story to find Jack's hand rubbing her abdomen, rubbing over the scar left by a wound inflicted ever so long ago.  It was a tender caress, like so many of his were now.  Winn was tempted to let it lull her to sleep in order to avoid the upcoming conversation, but she knew that no matter how hard she ran, she couldn't run far.  That was the disadvantage of being on a ship with one's husband for weeks and months on end.  There was a limited amount of time one could avoid the other.  "Life is never simple, is it?"

   Jack heard the dual notes of wistfulness and wry humor in her voice.  "No, love.  It's not."

   "Is it just us, or just me?  Or is this something that afflicts everyone now and again?"

   Jack took a moment to think.  "Well, now that I think about it, my life has been considerably more difficult since I met you . . . ."

   "Jack!"  Winn tried to turn and face her husband in mock outrage, but he wouldn't let her.  This was going to be a difficult enough discussion to have without having to look Winn in the eyes and see all her hurt and anger and outrage.  

   As if she could sense the direction of his thoughts, Winn asked, "What's wrong, Jack?"

   "Someone makes a rather bold and ambiguous threat against your life today, and you ask me what's wrong?  It seems as if I should be the one asking who may be out to get you.  Who has a grudge against _you_ and the means to carry it out?"

   "I don't want to talk about this right now, Jack.  I'm tired and my mind isn't as clear as it should be.  Besides, wouldn't it be more productive to ask our guest those questions?  Surely he must know more about all this than I do."

   "I wouldn't doubt that, love.  However, seeing as how the man is currently dead, and that is an affliction that seems unlikely to change in the near future –"

   "Jack Sparrow!  Please tell me you didn't kill that man before we had a chance to question him."

   "Would it matter if I did?  It's my right.  The man threatened the life of my wife and possibly my crew."  He could feel the outrage in his wife's small body.  "I know you think you're indestructible at times, Winnie, but the truth is you're not.  And I have every right to safeguard you in any way I see fit."

   Winn was definitely not appreciative of the direction this conversation was heading.  "It seems to me that we've already had this discussion once today.  To reiterate the pertinent points, I'm not made of porcelain, Jack.  Not only do I know quite a bit about protecting and defending myself, but also _you've_ taught me much on that matter since I came on board.  And it wasn't as if that man actually hurt me today.  A scratch was all he landed, and that was only because I was distracted at the time.  Being shot usually does that.  But I got away from him.  I'm safe."  A tear leaked out of her eye and was absorbed by her pillow.  _A bit overtired perhaps, but physically unharmed nonetheless._  "Why isn't that enough for you?"

   "Because what if the next time we're not so lucky?"

   "You can't live your life based on 'next times,' Jack."

   "You used to live your life based on last times.  Why should this be any different?"

   "Because I was wrong to do that!" Winn exploded in irritation.  As soon as the words had left her mouth, she felt regret for reacting so strongly.  Her emotions were wildly out of control.  _Must be more tired than I thought.  I don't usually snap like that.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to yell."  With a deep sigh she continued, "I know that I used to do that.  But it was wrong of me to let my past color my present so strongly.  You helped me learn that.  You're still helping me learn that.  And if something from my past has come back to haunt me, then I need to face it __with you, not send you out to face it for me."  An idea popped into her head suddenly.  "Besides, how do we know that this wasn't because of _your_ checkered past?  You've most likely offended a lot more people that I have."_

   Uncomfortable with the thought of something he had done being the cause of the threat to his wife, Jack said, "That may very well be, but you're forgetting one thing."

   "If you say, 'I'm Captain Jack Sparrow,' I will slap you," muttered Winn rebelliously.

   Jack smiled.  While she may have sounded sulky, that was the sort of thing that he expected Winn to say.  "Actually, I was going to say that our dearly departed friend said that he knew someone who wanted to meet you, not me."

   "What if this mystery person wanted to use me to hurt you?"

   "Do you have any concept of how melodramatic you sound right now?"

   "And no one out for revenge is ever melodramatic?  Is that what you're trying to tell me?"  She snorted.  "I think you of all people would know better.  I can't believe this is coming from the man who carried around the same pistol for ten years simply so he could shoot his first mate who led a mutiny against him with the same bullet he had been given to kill himself with on a deserted island.  You're right, that's not the least bit melodramatic."  Silence reigned in the cabin for several minutes before Winn thought to ask, "You never did tell me if you were the one to kill out friend down in the brig.  Is that because you forgot, or because you did and simply don't want to tell me?"

   "How is it that you never forget anything I fail to tell you?  Can't you ever just let things rest until I'm ready to tell you?"

   "Aren't you the one who said, 'Why ever would I want to distract the bulldoggish tenacity of your mind?  I'm sure that nothing less than a herd of wild elephants could pry you from your set purpose'?"

   "I said that?"  Jack sounded puzzled.  "_When_ did I say that?"

   "The day you shanghaied me."

   "Oh.  What were we arguing about?"

   "You're avoiding my original question, Jack.  Believe me when I say that I notice what you're doing and that I don't appreciate it."

   "You're turning into such a shrew, Winnie.  Perhaps I ought to start beating you."

   _"Jack."_

   "All right, all right.  No.  I didn't kill the man we brought on board.  He killed himself."

   Now that she was getting answers, Winn felt her temper settling.  "How?  I thought the men disarmed him."

   "They did, but apparently he had some poison secreted somewhere on his person.  It was probably so he could kill himself in case of this very outcome – so no one could torture information out of him.  Some of these mercenaries – or more likely an assassin – are very loyal to whomever has hired them."

   "That seems like a strange trait."

   "Yes, well, no more strange than some of the pirates you'll find sailing the seas."

   "Good point."  With some trepidation Winn asked, "So what do we do now?  We have no idea what that man's purpose was or who he was working for, or if he was even working for anyone.  Perhaps word had simply reached him that there is someone seeking either you or I for private purposes and he thought he could make a bit of money from it.  Or perhaps –"  A knock on the door interrupted her.  "How many times is that going to happen today?"

   Jack shrugged.  "Who is it and what do you want?"

   "It's Gibbs, sir.  We found something on our friend, and I thought you might want to take a look at it."

   "What kind of something?"  Jack was loathe to let anything interrupt this conversation, but if it was important, then perhaps he could use it to convince his wife to leave the ship of her own free will.

   "Two bits of a letter, sir."

    "I think we'd better look at this sooner rather than later, Jack."  _Sooner so I can convince you that I'm in no danger and you can stop acting like a mother hen with a sickling chick._

   Jack got out of bed and donned his breeches.  Walking to the door, he opened it and asked Gibbs quietly, "Why didn't you bring this to me sooner?  It can't have taken this long to search the man."

   "Well, y'see Jack, we didn't want to interrupt anythin' that might have been happenin' between you and the missus."  Gibbs smiled conspiratorially.  "The crew may not have caught on at first, but by now we all know that it isn't wise to interrupt when you're closeted away with the lass."

   Muttering curses and insults under his breath, Jack took the offered papers from Gibbs' hand.  "Was that all?"

   "The crew was also wonderin' if ye'd be joinin' us for dinner tonight, Capt'n.  They're in the mood to celebrate the win of a good fight."

   "Yes, of course we'll come and join you."  Both men turned when Winn spoke up.  She was standing just behind Jack, dressed in one of his shirts.  As long as she held the neck closed, it covered her completely from shoulders to practically her kneecaps with plenty of material to spare.  "Now, if you will excuse us so we can look over the information?"

   Gibbs nodded and left.  As he closed the door behind the departing seaman, Jack asked, "Was that entirely necessary?  I would have ended the conversation soon anyway."

   "Yes, but you would have declined to join the men for dinner.  We need to let them know that we're both alright and that the Captain remains strong and sure, not distracted from his duties.  You know that, just as I know we'd both rather stay alone in here and have our own celebration and reassurance."  She stroked the side of his face.  "Besides, I was getting hot.  I thought it might be cooler without all the blankets.  What's in the letters?"

   "If you let me focus, I could tell you."

   "Or you could hold the papers where we both could read them."  Before Jack could answer, Winn's legs gave out from under her and she nearly collapsed.  Only Jack's quick reflexes saved her from having a sore rear end.

   While he was more than mildly concerned, Jack knew that anything he said was just going to irritate Winn.  It chafed her to think that she was not as self-sufficient as she wished she were.  With no more than mild admonishment in his voice, Jack said, "I think you need to take another nap before dinner.  Or even skip dinner altogether.  The men will understand –"

   "The men will think I'm some kind of weak, puling, woman who can't handle a simple flesh wound," interrupted Winn.

   _If my darling wife is this cantankerous now, what is she going to be like when she's an old woman?  She won't be fit to live with.  The thought brought an absurd amount of pleasure to him.  Shifting his hold on her so he could carry her back to the bed, Jack said, "If they think such a thing after living through numerous fights with you, then they're more stupid than even I can give them credit for, and I need to dismiss them all and pick up a new crew."  Setting Winn down in the bed, he continued, "Take a nap and we can discuss things when you wake up."_

   "No."  Winn shook her head resolutely.  "You're going to read those letters and then come up with some kind of plan _and_ reasonable arguments to support it, and then I'll be at a disadvantage when you decide you want to do something I think is too risky."

   "Yes, well, that is my prerogative as captain.  And as captain, I'm ordering you to rest."

   "I'm your wife, not a member of your crew, Jack Sparrow.  You can't order me around."

   "You're Winifred Sparrow, and as your husband I most certainly do get to order you around."

   "I'm Winn _Morgan Sparrow, and as a Morgan I outrank you and don't have to listen to your orders."  The demands of her body were another matter entirely.  Her eyes were fast overcoming her determination to keep them open.  She contained a yawn as a wave of sleepiness rolled through her mind and body.  If she didn't compromise she was going to lose, and she hated losing.  "At least read the letters out loud so we can both get the information at the same time."_

   Jack smiled in an indulgent way that made Winn want to harangue him, but she lacked the energy at the moment.  _As soon as I'm feeling up to it though, he's a dead man.  She watched with heavy eyes as he walked across the room to pick up the papers from where he had dropped them on the floor so he could catch her.  She watched as he walked back across the room to take a seat beside her on the bed.  She listened as he began to read the letters out loud, leaned against him as her eyes demanded to be allowed to rest, wrapped an arm around his as her mind started to drift from the attention she was giving his words._

   Jack smiled as he felt Winn sag against him, as he heard her breathing level out into the deep and steady inhalations of sleep.  His wife was stubborn, but not even she could hold off sleep.  But behind the smile was a hint of worry.  _Normally she would put up a bit more of a fight.  She would have paced around the cabin, asked for something to drink.  Telling himself that it was nothing more than the pleasant and unpleasant exertions of the day catching up to her, he kept reading the letters, albeit silently as to avoid waking his slumbering wife._


	7. Make Hay While the Sun Shines

**Author's Note: ok, here we go.  A good old-fashioned feel-good chapter.  I decided to let Winn and Jack play a bit before making their lives resemble a Shakespearian tragedy.  Enjoy this.  I know I did.**

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**How We Ended the Last Chapter:**

She listened as he began to read the letters out loud, leaned against him as her eyes demanded to be allowed to rest, wrapped an arm around his as her mind started to drift from the attention she was giving his words.

   Jack smiled as he felt Winn sag against him, as he heard her breathing level out into the deep and steady inhalations of sleep.  His wife was stubborn, but not even she could hold off sleep.  But behind the smile was a hint of worry.  _Normally she would put up a bit more of a fight.  She would have paced around the cabin, asked for something to drink.  Telling himself that it was nothing more than the pleasant and unpleasant exertions of the day catching up to her, he kept reading the letters, albeit silently as to avoid waking his slumbering wife._

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"Wake up, love.  If you still want to go to dinner, now's the time to start getting ready."  Jack, while wanting to wake his wife in a way that wouldn't alarm her, was keeping a sharp eye for any body parts or heavy objects that might come his way.  Even after near four years of being awoken under all sorts of pleasurable circumstances, Winn still didn't like having to wake up.  Luckily for Jack he had a hard head and a nearly unstoppable will.

   However, this time it seemed as if he had been a little too gentle; Winn continued to sleep the sleep of the exhausted.  For a moment he wondered if it wouldn't be better to simply let her sleep through the evening meal while he made a short appearance down in the galley.  He could stay for ten or twenty minutes then come back and spend some more time deciding what he was going to do with the information he had gained from the two letters that had been scavenged from the dead man's body.  _And once she wakes up, Winn makes you very sorry for doing such a thing.  He sighed.  _I suppose I have no other choice then . . . ._  With the air of a man making an extreme sacrifice, Jack leaned down and kissed his sleeping bride._

Winn was sleeping.  Or at least she thought she was.  If she _was asleep, then she really ought to complain to someone about the quality of her dreams lately.  This one wasn't a nightmare, and she knew that if it started to head in that direction, then she could wake herself up.  No, this dream was merely strange.  Fragmented and utterly bewildering.  Even in her sleep she couldn't remember much past what was currently happening.  Her memory was nothing but a kaleidoscope of images, colors, and sounds._

   Right about the time she was getting really frustrated, she felt something that actually had substance, something she could definitely say she was actually feeling and not imagining.  It was a kiss.  Nothing extremely passionate or overly demanding.  No, this kiss had just enough heat and pressure behind it to be a reminder that she wasn't alone.  That there was someone with her who wanted her attention.

   Slowly drifting up from her dream, she murmured something to the person kissing her.  She wasn't sure if it was meant to praise or criticize.  Set against her passionate dislike of being awoken was the pleasant sensation of being cherished.  _Yes.  That's what this kiss feels like.  Like being cherished._  Slowly she felt herself waking up.  "Jack?  What are you doing?"

   "If you truly can't figure out what it is that I'm doing, then I have failed miserably as a husband."

   "No, not that.  I meant, why are you waking me up?"

   Jack raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.  "Are you telling me that you no longer want to force the two of us to go to dinner?  That we can stay right here in out cozy little cabin –" he stopped as Winn started laughing.  "What?"

   Propping herself up on her elbows, Winn kissed his cheek.  "You, my oh-so verbose husband, should never use the word 'cozy.'  Or at least never let anyone hear you use it – it might irrevocably damage your image as a fearsome pirate captain."

   "Is that right?"

   "Umm-hmm."

   "Well, I guess I'll just have to show you that a man can use the word 'cozy' and still be fearsome."  He started to kiss her, but she held him off by placing her hands on his chest.

   "We don't have time for that before dinner."  He gazed at her with soulful eyes, the same look she got from Pige when the dog was sure that Winn was feeding her table scraps that even a starving pirate would decline to touch.  "Where's Pige?"

   Rolling his eyes, Jack got up off the bed.  _Ok, there's no way I'm going to get her to stay here.  She brought up the dog – it's hopeless.  "She's outside terrorizing the crew.  I didn't want her disturbing you, so I locked her out."_

   "Jack . . . ."  _Oh, not the disappointed tone.  I can handle anything but that._  "You know I can sleep through just about anything.  Will you please let my dog in?"

   Grumbling about demanding women and oversized dogs, Jack walked to the doors of the room and opened them.  There on the threshold lay a truly miserable Pige.  When she saw who it was at the door, she sat up and let out a dejected whine.  _Blasted animal.  I can take it from one, but not from both._  Truth be told, Jack had a soft spot for his wife's pet.  A very, very, very small soft spot, but a spot nonetheless.  "Well fine.  Go in to your mistress then."  He stepped aside and bowed as if to a great lady, swinging one arm out in an exaggerated swoop.  The dog bounded past him in a flurry of silver-grey hair, blue eyes, and wagging tail.  He flinched at its excited barks.  There was no way he was going to stay in here with the overly agitated animal.  "Winnie, I'll be back in twenty minutes to take you to dinner."  She looked up and nodded, her hands busy petting her dog.

   Thinking unpleasant thoughts about animals who took their owner's attention away from the husbands who deserved it, Jack left to go get a status report from Gibbs.

 "Jack.  I'm ready."  Jack turned from the crewman he had idly been talking to while waiting for his wife to get ready.  She was wearing a long copper colored tunic-dress over a long-sleeved white shirt.  She had tied her hair back with a bit of black velvet ribbon, perhaps the one vanity she was willing to give in to.  Pige sat at her side, tail wagging slowly.

   It had taken months for the couple to teach the dog to heel, mainly because every time someone talked to her, she'd leap across the cabin to assault their faces with her tongue.  But now, she finally had the order down, and it did more to increase her own appearance of a fierce guard dog than it did to make Winn appear any more threatening.  Perhaps it was because Pigeon had grown to be three feet tall at the shoulder and that when she sat at Winn's side, her head came up Winn's ribcage, thus making Winn appear even more delicate than she already did.

   "I don't know what your brother was thinking when he got such a monster dog for you, or what I was thinking when I let you bring her onboard."  Jack came over to stand in front of Winn.  He would have taken her hand were it not for his crew standing about – neither he nor Winn were comfortable showing large amounts of affection in front others.

   "You were thinking you were so happy to have me back that you'd take me back under any conditions – even a monster dog."  Setting her hand on Pige's head, a silent signal for the dog to stand, she said, "Let's go down to dinner.  I'm hungry."

Some of the boisterousness in the galley quieted when the Captain and his lady came down the stairs.  Because he treated his crews well (and because his ship was the legendary _Black Pearl_), Captain Sparrow was well respected, even if he did act the sunbaked fool at times.  He and his woman made a rather stately pair coming down the stairs into the long room – he every inch the eccentric pirate from the hat on his head and the beads in his hair to the boots in which he walked so blithely, and the small woman at his side who appeared to be completely helpless but was really a fury in a fight, verbal or physical.  He was the effusive comic, she an icy shadow at his side, preferring to let others talk.  The only hint of danger about her was the oversized hound that was never far from her side.

   As they walked in, the Captain frowned.  "Just a moment ago they could hear your revels in Port Royal.  Why is it so quiet?  Don't tell me this outsized dog has intimidated you!  Where's the crew that won an unfair battle this morning!"  He glanced around, embellishment in each of his movements.  "Leech!  Tell me why things are so quiet."

   "It seems to me that the lads could use a drink, Capt'n.  Perhaps their voices are painfully parched."

   "Well, give 'em somethin' to drink then.  Open a barrel of rum!"  There was a loud cheer at this order.

   Winn watched as her husband put on the show his crew was expecting, hiding the schoolgirlish smile that was trying to come to her lips.  The crew didn't need to see her acting like a moonstruck idiot.  She walked over to a table, seating herself next to Anamaria who was aboard for the last time.  The woman had finally gotten more than enough money to replace the ship that Jack had pilfered from her years ago, and she had finally decided to do something about it.  Winn would miss her – it was nice having another female aboard.  She wouldn't go so far as to say that she and Anamaria were best friends, both woman liking to guard their privacy, but they had enjoyed several talks over the past years and she was an expert when it came to knife throwing.  Winn had learned a lot from her.

   "So, you're not as soft as I thought, landlubber.  Up and around after being shot?"  Winn was greeted by the familiar show of sociable hostility.  Anamaria had no respect for those who ever wanted to feel the solid ground beneath them for extended amounts of time.

   "It's just a scratch, although I must admit that perhaps my definition of scratch may be different than Jack's.  Every time I get one he hustles me onto the ship to get it looked at."

   "Plays by his own rules that one does."  Winn nodded absently as she watched her ebullient husband work his way around the room.

   "Hmm . . . the rules of life as written by Jack Sparrow.  I think he'd write such a book to add to his own consequence if he didn't think that people would start following it."

   "One of a kind, that's certain."

   "Yes, well, madness hardly ever displays itself the same way twice."  The two women shared a look, one of understanding.

   "Sitting around having a gossip, love?"  Jack came over and sat down next to the two women, setting a mug of rum before Winn.  She picked it up and took a sip.  It wasn't the best she had ever had, and she doubted she would finish the portion she'd been given.  Being drunk had its advantages at times, but those times were few and far between.  She listened as Jack and Anamaria talked of her plans.

   _What was in those letters? she wondered idly.  __Jack hasn't said anything, which is making me nervous.  It makes me think that he's learned something that he knows I'm not going to like.  Carefully observing him over the rim of her tankard, she tried to guess what it could be, but he wasn't giving anything away.  _The captain is out in full force.  I need my husband, not the showman.__

   "Here y'are, lass."  She looked up as a bowl of stew was set in front of her.  She smiled at Leech.  The man had taken her under his wing since she had come back on board.  She still remembered the first time she had met the man.  

_   "The Capt'n sent me down to see to ye, and to tend to yer wound."  _

_   "Please tell Captain Sparrow that I thank him for his concern, but his worries are unfounded.  I would be ever so grateful if he could drop me by the nearest port."  The ice of her words just slid off the elderly Scotsman.  He just smiled at her as if he knew something that she didn't._

_   "Well, if that isn't the way of it then . . ." he trailed off.  Collecting himself with a shake, Leech said with good humor, "You should eat something if you plan on doin' battle with the Capt'n."_

   How the man had known what was going to happen between the two, Winn still didn't know.  She had asked once, and he had simply said that it was because he was so old he had seen this same thing happen to numerous amounts of people, and could recognize when two people were made to match each other.  Not when two people would fall in love, but when they would find the other person who complemented them in every way.

   "Ye alright, lassie?"  Winn looked up from her memories to find Jack, Anamaria, and Leech looking at her curiously.  "I thought ye looked a bit peaked.  I s'pose ye should be back in bed."

   "No, I'm fine.  Just remembering something."  Trying to get everyone's attention off her, she automatically reached for her spoon.  The din in the galley had surpassed its earlier levels, the men enjoying the opportunity to let off some steam.  Looking around she was thinking that Jack would soon want to stop by Tortuga to let his men run loose.  Once again lost in thought, she had the spoon halfway to her mouth before she realized that the smell of the food before her was turning her stomach in a decidedly unpleasant way.  Quickly setting the spoon back down, she turned a warm smile on Leech and asked, "I don't suppose we have any fruit on board, do we?"  It was a foolish question.  Of course they did, even if it was nothing more varied than limes.  But Jack liked having fruit on board, so she knew that there was most likely a large variety open to her.

   "Aye, lass.  Crates of the stuff.  Why?"  Leech was watching her carefully, as if he were gathering evidence for something.

   "I just realized that I'm not all that hungry – stew seems to be a bit much to force upon my digestion right now.  But fruit sounds nice.  Especially if we have any papaya or guava."  And that was the truth.  For some reason she really wanted to eat guava right now.  "Guava in particular would be nice.  Do we have any?"

   "Let me check."  Leech got up and entered the kitchen part of the galley.  Winn turned her attention to her other two tablemates.  Anamaria was talking to a man next to her, but Jack was eyeing her suspiciously.  She swallowed as he leaned over.

   "Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asked in her ear.  "You can leave at any time and no one will think any less of you."

   "I'm fine Jack.  Stop acting like an overly concerned mother."  Further conversation was cut short by several men pulling out harmonicas and wood flutes and even an accordion.  Stomping feet provided a percussion line as the men started dancing jigs and singing dirty sea shanties at the top of their lungs.

   Jack watched as a member of his crew approached them and asked his wife to dance.  She quickly agreed, more from wanting to get away from his watching eyes he suspected than out of any desire to dance.  He watched as she twirled around laughing, her hair coming lose of her ribbon and flying in her face, her eyes sparkling.  She danced with man after man, occasionally coming back to the table to eat a bite of tropical fruit or to take a sip of rum.

   After one such stop, she took one of Jack's hands in both of hers.  "Come dance with me, Jack."  She pulled on his hand.  "We never danced at our wedding."

   "That's because one of us wasn't too keen on being married in the first place."

   "Please come dance with me?  Who knows when the chance will come up again?  Besides, I'm having so much fun."  She smiled as Jack let her pull him up from the bench he was sitting at.  Laughing she said, "Keep up with me Jack!" then she took off, jigging and darting between the men, daring Jack to catch her.

   He followed, having drunk a little more rum than might otherwise be prudent, matching her step for step, slowing gaining on her.  Eventually he caught her with am arm around her waist.  Picking her up, he spun her around, then set her back on her feet.  The men playing the instruments picked up their pace as their captain and his lover danced.  Finally Winn could take the pace no more.  She stopped, nearly collapsing where she stood, letting Jack catch her.  She heard Pige barking, trying to make her way through the crowd.

   "I think we had better stop."  She nodded, in perfect agreement with Jack.  Now that she was no longer moving, she could feel her legs trembling with exhaustion and her body radiating heat.  In fact, the entire room was heat, beating around her, making it seem too enclosed.

   "Let's go up on the deck.  I need some air."

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**Author's Thanks go to: ao_hoshi, KawaiiRyu, Savvy-Z, bobo 3, TaraRose, savvy sparrowhawk, jackfan2, captainsparrowsfeistylass, lilitaliandragon, PeleAmelika, BeBe, Eledhwen, Talabar, SuzzieQue, Sassy Q, eva, LaDyKaGoMe409, and to all those that I might have missed.  I really do love you all, and appreciate every review, it's just that I don't have the paper to print them out anymore, so I don't know if I'm doing as good a job keeping track.  Much apologies if I missed you.**


	8. Batten the Hatches

**Author's Note: Do-do-do!  Chapter eight.  Semi-painful (or less), but satisfying to write nonetheless.  Finally I'm moving on in my plot.  I thought I could squeeze these last six chapters into three when I was planning.  Yeah, forgot how well my ideas of what needs to be written meshes with what my character demand to be written.  Enjoy, and be looking for chapter nine around Thursday.**

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**Last Time:**

Winn took one of Jack's hands in both of hers.  "Come dance with me, Jack."  She pulled on his hand.  "We never danced at our wedding."

   "That's because one of us wasn't too keen on being married in the first place."

   "Please come dance with me?  Who knows when the chance will come up again?  Besides, I'm having so much fun."  She smiled as Jack let her pull him up from the bench he was sitting at.  Laughing she said, "Keep up with me Jack!" then she took off, jigging and darting between the men, daring Jack to catch her.

   He followed, having drunk a little more rum than might otherwise be prudent, matching her step for step, slowing gaining on her.  Eventually he caught her with am arm around her waist.  Picking her up, he spun her around, then set her back on her feet.  The men playing the instruments picked up their pace as their captain and his lover danced.  Finally Winn could take the pace no more.  She stopped, nearly collapsing where she stood, letting Jack catch her.  She heard Pige barking, trying to make her way through the crowd.

   "I think we had better stop."  She nodded, in perfect agreement with Jack.  Now that she was no longer moving, she could feel her legs trembling with exhaustion and her body radiating heat.  In fact, the entire room was heat, beating around her, making it seem too enclosed.

   "Let's go up on the deck.  I need some air."

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Winn reveled in the cool ocean breeze blowing in her face.  The _Pearl was riding at sea anchor, her sails furled, her deck empty yet haunted by the music and revelry of her crew.  It was almost like being on a ghost ship, knowing that she was alone on the deck, yet feeling the presence of an unseen crew.  It was an eerie feeling that sent shivers of some kind of unknown awareness down her spine._

   She approached the rail, seeing the glint of the night lanterns on the water below.  It reminded her of gilded obsidian, or her ring – fire caught within dark stone.  Lost in thought, she felt Jack slip an arm around her waist.  In an unconscious movement, she leaned against his shoulder.  It was natural by now to find herself desiring his presence; instinctive, second nature.  The tides were pulled by the moon; she was pulled by the knowledge of returned love.  _Speaking of the moon, here it comes._

   Man and woman stood side by side, watching the moon rise.  As the last slice of the crescent moon rose above the dark line of the horizon, Winn asked, "Have I ever told you what my favorite part of being at sea is?"

   Jack closed his eyes, cherishing this moment and the twinge in his heart as his wife willingly shared what was on her mind.  He had made a hard decision that afternoon as he had watched Winn sleep.  A decision that was going to make Winn as elusive as the horizon he had been chasing for so much of his life.  Her sharing things with him without him having to ask just made things all the harder to do and say.  "No.  I don't believe you have, Winnie."

   "It's being able to look out at the sea at night and not being able to tell where the sea stops and the stars start.  The stars are so much brighter out here, closer.  Now, when I'm visiting my family, I look up at night and hate how my surroundings box the sky in.  How limited my view is."  Her husband said nothing.  Tilting her head she looked up at him.  He was staring out at sea as if he hoped to find something there, something that was currently eluding him.  "Trying to find the horizon, Jack?"

   He sighed.  "No, love.  I'm trying to figure out how to delay its coming."

   "I don't understand."  And she wasn't sure she wanted to.  There was some measure of disquiet in his voice, an undertone of despondency to his words.  Whatever he had to say next, she doubted she was going to like it.  _Please let this have nothing to do with those letters.  I knew I should have stayed awake._

   "Do you remember our wedding, Winnie?"

   "Of course I do."  What kind of question was that?  If there was one thing she remembered better than that nerve-wracking day, she wasn't sure what it was.  Perhaps the day he had come after her.

   "Then you remember our vows?"

   ". . . Yes."

   "And do you remember what the three vows are that a man keeps on the sea?"

   "Those made to his crew, those of revenge, and those made to a wife."  Winn turned so she was no longer leaning against Jack but against the rail instead.  Trying to search eyes that wouldn't meet hers in the dark, she asked, "What are you trying to tell me, Jack?" 

   "I swore to protect your life, Winn."  He reached out to smooth a hand across her scraped neck.  He looked so world-weary that Winn's heart cried out.

   "And I swore to protect yours.  We've done a pretty good job so far, seeing as how neither of us are dead."  Winn tried to quell the rising sense of hysteria rising up in her at his use of her name instead of a pet name.  "What was in those letters, Jack?  If they've managed to upset you this much, then I think I deserve to know.  We're partners in this.  Don't leave me in the dark now." 

   Jack sighed, as if in defeat.  Reaching inside one of his many coat pockets, he pulled out a folded and wrinkled piece of paper.  Silently he handed it to her.  With mixed feelings of curiosity and misgiving, she unfolded the paper.  Angling it towards the night lanterns so that some of their light fell across the page, she had to muffle a gasp.  Quickly looking back up to her husband, she saw his face was unreadable.  _No.  Tell me he's not planning what I think he is._

Jack watched Winn as she examined the paper.  He already knew what she would find.  There was a rough portrait of her in her 'disguise' and three simple lines.  _The pirate Morgan, wanted alive for the wrongful death of Tristan Gandolfi.  Contact Marco Stephanopoulos in Nassau in case of capture.  Reward offered.  If there was nothing else they knew about this situation it was that someone was out to get Winn, and Jack would gouge the eyes from his head before he let Winn come into the hands of this man._

   "My dream. . . ."  Winn sounded lost.  It was too much for her to currently take in.  She looked up from the paper.  "Jack, the man that I accidentally shot, the one I keep dreaming about.  He was on an Italian ship, and the man mentioned in this has an Italian name."  He knew her hands had started to tremble when he saw the paper trembling in her grasp.  Reaching out he took her hands in his, starting to chafe them when he felt how cold they were.  "I didn't mean to kill him.  I didn't want to, and I wouldn't have if he hadn't shot first.  It was an accident."  _Why is this happening?  Why now?_

_   **Because you didn't start wearing your 'pirate getup' until you talked Jack into letting you run about on deck.  Someone obviously recognized you.**_

   Trying to reign in her rampant emotions, Winn asked, "What are we going to do now?"

   And here was the part that Jack knew she wasn't going to like.  "I'm taking you back to your Grandfather's.  You'll be safe there until I can solve this."

   _"No!"  Jack was unsurprised by her vehement objection.  "No, you can't, Jack."  All the old fears of being abandoned were struggling to resurrect themselves._

   "What I can't do is let you stay on this ship when we don't know how many people are looking for you."  Winn was shaking her head.  Reaching out he grabbed her chin to make her look at him.  "What else did I swear to you on our wedding day, Winn?  What else?"  He could still feel her trembling.

   "You promised not to abandon me when I need you."  The words were whispered.  "But what you're planning sounds an awful lot like that to me."  She turned her hands so that they were grasping his.  "Don't do that."

   He let go of her chin so he could stroke her hair in a calming manner.  "I'm not forsaking you, love.  I'm keeping us _both safe.  What do you think I would do to myself if I failed to keep you safe here?  We have no idea what this man even wants with you.  I won't gamble with your life."_

   "But you'll gamble with your own?"  _They're one and the same.  Our lives are tied to each other.  Without you, what do I have?_

   "It's not like that, Winnie."

   "From where I'm standing, it's looking remarkably like that."

   "How am I gambling?  I take the _Pearl to New Providence, manage to get to Nassau and find this Stephanopoulos, and then I persuade him to tell me what I want to know.  We find out who's after you and where he is.  I go and get him, eliminate the danger one way or another, and then I come and get you.  And _we_ live the rest of out itinerant lives together.  Where's the gamble?"_

   "We don't know if that man we caught earlier today was placed here just so we _could catch wind of this.  We don't know how much this mystery man knows.  What if it's a trap?  What makes you think that I can afford to lose you any more than you can afford to lose me?"_

   "I don't want to argue with you about this, Winnie."

   "Then be reasonable," she pleaded with him.  "I don't want you out there risking your life because you're angry.  And don't try telling me you're not.  I think I know you a little better than that."

Okay, so he was angry.  No.  He was furious that anyone would dare try to ruin the life a woman who was so scrupulous when it came to harming people.  He had seen her take almost outlandish risks just to avoid killing an opponent.  She always tried first to defend, and then to nonfatally injure, and then only in extreme cases, to kill.  He was furious with this unknown person who tried to find revenge without first declaring himself – without making intent known.  He would readily kill this person who was threatening his own life by threatening his wife.  Jack wasn't overly romantic or given to spouting passionate ideals, but he did know one thing: his wife meant more to him than he cared to realize, because it was enough to know that he would risk his life to save her neck.  He didn't need to know what would happen to him if she died.  He already had a pretty good idea, and ruminating on it any longer would cause him to lose sight of the now and be able to see only the what-if's.  Life wasn't made for what-if's.  That was what regret was for, and if he could help it, he would never have anything to regret.

   As he stood stoking his wife's hair, Jack realized just how hard she had started to shiver.  "You're cold."  _She's in shock.  _She nodded.  "Let's go to the cabin."  He led her compliant body to their cabin.  Letting go of her hand, he went to light the lantern that hung from the ceiling.  As he was engaged in this, Jack heard Winn walk over to the table and drag a chair out to sit on.  Once he had the lamp lit, he came to kneel before her.  Her hands were in her lap and her eyes were downcast, not wanting to look at him.

   Winn was silent as he took her hands in his.  She was scared and she was hurt.  She was scared that no matter how Jack tried to reassure her, he was either going to leave her for good because she was too much trouble or he was going to get himself killed in an effort to clean up her mess, which amounted to the same thing.  She was angry with herself for doubting him and angry with him for putting her in a situation that allowed her to doubt him.  And her arm hurt.  And she was cold.  And she didn't want him to leave her.  So she gave him the silent treatment.  Ignored her one source of comfort and security because she was afraid that he was going to wittingly or unwittingly deny her of those two things.

   "You know I'm right, Winnie.  You know that unless I know you're safe I'll be more focused on caring for you than I will be on eliminating the threat to you.  I can't let myself be distracted like that."

   "So you'll leave me behind to worry for you?"  The anguish in her voice was clear to them both.

   "Why should you worry, love?  It's not as if I take things easy when you're not on the ship.  We both know I get into more risky situations when you're not here than when you are.  And every time things have come out all right.  Just think of this as another visit with your relatives.  It's about time for one anyway."

   "Yes, but normally I _know_ what kind of trouble you're likely getting yourself into.  I don't have to worry about what kind of trouble that I'm getting you into, I don't have to face unknowns."  She paused, and then abruptly asked, "Do you _know_ how many ships there are in the Bahamas?  Not just merchant, pirate, and privateers, but navy?  Half will be out to capture you for hanging, and the rest evenly split between the desire to loot you and the desire to keep you from looting them.  And our friend must know what the _Pearl_ looks like.  What if he's watching out for you?  What if he has a trap ready for just this circumstance?  What you're suggesting is _too_ _risky!"  She looked at him in sudden anger._

   "No, don't get mad at me, Winn.  You knew who I was before you married me.  You knew who I was before consummating the marriage.  You know that I would do almost anything to see you happy, but don't ask me to turn coward for you.  That's the one thing I can't do for you, Winn.  It's the one thing I refuse to do for you."

   "I'm not mad at you and I don't want you to act like a coward.  It's just . . . ."  She stopped, aware that what she had been about to say was ground they had covered a thousand times before.

   "It's just what?"

   Closing her eyes she said, "What if things get too hard and you decide it's not worth it?  That _I'm_ not worth it?  What if you decide to just leave me to wait for you at Swallows Rest until you decide to never come back?  That I'm too much of a headache?"

   _It all comes back to this, doesn't it?  The same fears.  What is it going to take to lay them to rest?  Jack was getting fed up with having to deal with this same stumbling block over and over again.  He knew that they had both done everything they could to overcome this one fear, knew that Winn hated admitting that she still feared being left alone.  He laid the pain it was causing on the steadily climbing account of the man who had started this mess._

   "Winnie."  She didn't open her eyes.  "Look at me, Winnie."  Nothing.  "Winnie, I am not going to leave you, and you know that.  Deep inside you know that.  I've had plenty of chances to do so before, most notably when you drugged me and ran away.  But I didn't leave you then, and I'm not going to leave you now."  She slowly raised her head to look at him.  "Trust me, Winnie."

   "I do."  The admission was whispered so quietly that he nearly missed it.  "I love you."

   "I know.  I love you too."  It was the first time in nearly four years that the two had said the words out loud, but somehow this situation demanded it be said.  "You'll wait for me?  You'll wait for me to do what I need to do to keep you safe?"

   "Yes. . . . But I still don't like it."  Sliding off the chair, she made herself at home in his arms.  "Hold me?"  And he did, all night long.

"I still don't like this idea, Jack.  It seems too much like I'm sending you out to fight my battles for me.  If this is all caused by what we think it is, then shouldn't I be the one to try to fix things?"  Winn was taking her last chance to debate this topic with her husband.  The two stood at the wheel and as the sun set, she could see the lights of Swallows Rest growing closer.  "You asked me not to ask you to be a coward for me, but I don't want to be the kind of woman who cowers behind her man.  I've never done that before.  And I don't want to now."  Her thinking was that if she went with Jack, then she could try to keep him out of trouble.

   "Winnie.  We've been over this.  We've been over nothing _but this since Tuesday, which was five days ago.  I don't think we really need to go over it again.  Besides, they say that routine can kill a marriage."_

   "Not if I kill you first.  Or if this plan of yours kills you off before I do."  Despite the fact that they were both making light of his death, she found that to be a very real concern.  There was no coming back from death.  If he died, she really would be stranded.  "Jack, please ­–"

   _Enough.  Reaching out an arm, Jack pulled his wife to him and kissed her to stop the words coming out of her mouth.  A few members of his crew whistled, but most looked the other way.  _Probably to hide their amusement._  Keeping his eyes open so he could still steer his ship, Jack kissed Winn until she stopped struggling against him.  He then let her go and motioned to Cotton who was standing nearby.  He let the older man take the helm, then pulled Winn into their cabin._

   Shutting the door behind him, he turned to his wife.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, "I appreciate the effort, love, but if your arguments didn't convince me the first thirty-seven times, what makes you think that they're going to convince me now?"

   "I thought I might be able to change you mind.  I feel as if you're not taking any of my concerns seriously, Jack.  Like you're brushing them off like they don't matter and you think I'm a brainless woman for even bringing them up."

   "Love, I know how serious you are when you ask to come with me.  I know because I'm just as serious when I say that I need you to stay here where it's safe.  No one really knows about Osprey Point, and those that do have family or friends here – they're not likely to give away information that would lead to a bloody raid.  I know you'll be safe here, so I can focus all my attention on keepin' myself safe."

   "You keep saying that, but –"

   "Winnie.  I'm going to be cautious, and I'll be coming back for you.  Just trust me in this and let me take care of it.  I know you feel as if I'm forcing you to hide behind me, but I'd rather you think of it as me forcin' you to rely on me."

   Winn didn't like the sound of that.  She hated to be forced to do anything, even if it was for her own good and she knew it.  She also knew that no matter how stubborn she was, Jack was equally stubborn.  Making a quick decision, she imitated his pose and threw out the challenge.  "Yes, well, as long as you're forcing me, you're going to have to force me from this ship, Jack.  I'm not leaving so you can go do something stupid.  I'm not going to cooperate."

   He studied her rebellious stance for several minutes before saying, "Fine.  Have it your way."  While his words sounded placating, even defeated, he was thinking, _If you want to do this the hard way, then we will._  He opened the doors behind him.  "Parker!  Go down to the galley and bring the wife and I some dinner.  We'll be dining alone tonight."

Winn was surprised that Jack had acquiesced so suddenly.  While she wanted to be able to deal with this threat against her with her husband, and she would be thrilled if he let her come instead without making her life a misery, she was suspicious.  _He just gave in too easily.  **And too suddenly.   He must be planning something.  But what?**_  Jack hadn't spoken to her since he had conceded the argument, which was some five minutes ago.  "Jack?  Are you mad at me?"

   He turned from his study of the aft windows and the vista they held.  She saw him smile wistfully, something she had never really seen him do before.  "No, love.  Just thinking.  You keep insisting upon complicating things and it's not making my life any easier."

   Winn felt an incomprehensible urge to apologize and say that she would stay with her grandfather, but she ignored it.  She needed to be with her husband through this.  She had spent so many years running from things in her past that it would be so easy to fall back into the habit.  That was possibly the one thing he had yet to fully understand about her – she liked to run.

   "I'm sorry, Jack.  I just need to be with you."

   "I know, love."  He came over and held her.  "I know."

   There was a knock on the door.  Jack left her to go let the burdened Parker in.  She stood by as the men set plates of food and a pitcher of cold tea on the table.  The tea was for her.  She had been wanting to drink tea lately.  When they were done and the crewman had left, she came over and sat down.  "What are we going to tell Grandfather?"

   Jack shrugged.  "Tell him whatever you want.  But I don't want to stay any longer than a few days."  He poured some tea into a glass for her.  "We'll go ashore tomorrow morning."

   Winn nodded and sipped her drink.  Her plate of food was suddenly unappetizing, but she ate anyway.  There was no need to worry Jack with strange eating habits.  She had been eating a lot lately – maybe her body was just trying to tell her to take a break for awhile.

   The couple sat and talked for several minutes.  Then Winn yawned.  She apologized and picked up the conversation again, only to be interrupted a few moments later by another yawn.  Thinking it would help her wake up, she took another sip of tea, but she only got sleepier.  Through another yawn she said, "I'm sorry.  I don't know what's come over me.  I'm just suddenly so tired."  Raising heavy lids, she saw an apologetic look on her husband's face.  "What?"  She tried to stand, but her legs didn't want to cooperate.  Realization hit, and it hit low and hard.  "A little late for payback, isn't it, Sparrow?"

   He shrugged.  "Don't blame me for taking a page from your book, Winnie."  He got up from the table and scooped her into his arms.  Carrying her over to the bed, he said, "You're the one who wanted to do this the hard way, love."  He brushed some hair out of her face.  "I'd love to have you come with me, but it would be too much of a distraction, and that's something that neither of us can afford right now."  He sat with Winn in his arms as she struggled against him and against sleep.

   "Ungh . . . I hate you."

   "No you don't, love.  You hate that I won this time."

   "I'll . . . I'll come after . . . you . . . ."

   "No.  You won't."  He felt her struggles slow, then cease.  Felt her breathing even out into the deep and regular breaths of the deeply asleep.  

   _I'm sorry, Winnie, but you didn't leave me any other choices.  It's a pity we're both so stubborn.  But one of us had to win, and I had to make sure it was me, because I can't lose you.  And that's why I'll be okay, because if I died, I would most certainly lose you.  I worked too hard to leave you now.  He sat on their bunk and held her until a knock came at the door and Gibbs stuck his head in to say, "Yer lifeboat is ready, Jack."_

Jack had made sure that his wife was bundled up warmly before they had left the ship.  He only took two men with him to carry a trunk of her belongings, and Pige who he didn't want to separate from her mistress.  He would carry his wife himself.

   He let the men row them to the cove before Morgan's house, let them beach the boat.  Lifting Winn in his arms, he led the way up to the house, Pige bouncing around the path in front of him.  A servant had seen them coming and had alerted the master of the house.  Morgan was at his front door, Ry at his side.  

   "What's this?"  While the last few years had been hard on the man, he still had the bright eyes of someone with all their wits about them.  "Why are you carrying my granddaughter like a bag of meal?"

   "Because I had to drug her to get her here."

   Morgan lifted his eyebrows at this.  "I trust you have an explanation for this.  One that you will share posthaste."

   "Right after I see my wife to her room."  So saying, he stepped past Ry, who had still said nothing, and made his way upstairs, nodding to a speechless Cat as he went.  Pige had left to go reexamine the house with her nose.

   Walking to her room, he pushed the door open.  A lamp was lit, spilling light into the dusky room.  Gently he set Winn on the bed, taking care with her injured arm.  She murmured as he let her go, not enough under the influence of the drug to not miss his presence.  He held her hand until she quieted, then gently kissed her on the lips.  "I'm going to miss you, Winnie.  But hopefully I won't be gone long.  Try to stay out of trouble."

   He left the room quickly and quietly, shutting the door behind him.  Descending the stairs, he found Morgan, Ry, and Cat all standing waiting for him.  "I'll be brief.  I don't have much time to waste."

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**Author's Thanks: mooney, Ginny-star, unicorn87, captainsparrowsfeistylass, Honor, Clover the Sea-Beast, KawiiRyu, Bright Eyes (aka completeopposites), Eledhwen, bobo3, SuzzieQue, saiya-gurl, BeBe**


	9. Interlude I

So, Morgan and Sparrow had finally caught wind of his little plan, had they?  The elderly man sat behind a rather formidable desk and icily glared at the man before him, the one that had brought the news of Moore's failure to capture the two pirates.  The man obviously thought that he would be paid for the information – information that was useless.  Where the _Black_ _Pearl_ had been two weeks ago didn't interest him at all.  It was where it was now that concerned him . . . that and what the good Captain Sparrow had up his sleeve.  He had gotten word from Stephanopoulos' aide that the man had gone into hiding.  It had been either that or face the wrath of the small songbird.  _But even sparrows have talons, and they're quick.  And they will attack larger birds without a second thought.  What I need to do is set a trap for this sparrow.  Not to kill him, but to cage him.  He still has a purpose, and after he has served it . . . ?  The man gave a mental shrug.  _After that, perhaps I'll arrange a meeting between him and the navy.  Any navy.__

   "Signor?  About the . . . compensation for my news?"  The man had nerve, he was willing to admit that.  Not much brains, perhaps, but nerves none the less.

   "Go to the kitchen.  My cook will give you something to eat and drink, and my steward will see to getting you what your 'news' was worth."  He watched the man scuttle out.  _Yes, what your news was worth.  Nothing.  And that is exactly what you will be leaving this existence with._  Getting up from the desk, he smoothed back thick silver hair.  He had no time to sit idle if he was to take advantage of the news from Nassau.

   He had a trap to set.  Bait to catch.  And a murderess to discipline.


	10. Reef the Sails

**Author's Note: question from last chapter – "Is the bad guy Spanish, or was the 'henchman' Spanish?"  Answer to both is no – I just had a really hard time of spelling the Italian form of 'sir' right.  It was supposed to be "Signor", which is pronounced the same way as "senor" – just in Italian.  I did go back and fix that.  Bad me.  Let me know what you all are thinking, because if I don't know, then I can't clear anything up.**

**A/N 2: okay, this one took me awhile.  It was somewhat painful to write, and you probably won't be laughing so much at it, but this was all needed to set things up for the rest of the story.  Pretty much the entire plot depends on this chapter.  So read – hopefully everyone is true to character and all the emotions are believable. **

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**End of the chapter before the Interlude:**

Jack left the room quickly and quietly, shutting the door behind him.  Descending the stairs, he found Morgan, Ry, and Cat all standing waiting for him.  "I'll be brief.  I don't have much time to waste."

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Winn woke up sometime the next day with a pounding headache and a funny taste in her mouth.  For a moment she had no idea where she was; her bed wasn't moving underneath her.  Rolling over without opening her eyes, she reached for Jack.  But he wasn't there.  "Jack?"  There was no answer but a whining and a scratching on the door.  _What is going on?_

   Winn opened her eyes and found herself in her bedroom at her grandfather's house.  _What?_  A thought fluttered through her mind that perhaps the past few years had been nothing more than a dream and she was supposed to leave this morning for Antigua to carry out some business for Grandfather.  And then she would go to Jamaica for Elizabeth and Will's wedding.  _But . . . I thought I already did that.  If only her mind was clear enough for her to __think!_

   She was wondering if she had had too much to drink the night before when Cat came into the room with her two youngest children trailing after her.  _Wait, when did Cat have two more children?_ she thought as her sister went and opened the curtains to reveal that it was sometime past noon.

   "Well, hello there.  We thought you were never going to wake up, and that we were going to have to wait for Jack to come back to wake you with a kiss."

   _Jack . . . ._  Taking a look at Cat's children she remembered that their names were Adam and Ava, twins born a month before she had come back from England.  After she was married to Jack.  _So where's Jack?_

_   "Don't blame me for taking a page from your book, Winnie.  You're the one who wanted to do this the hard way, love.  I'd love to have you come with me, but it would be too much of a distraction, and that's something that neither of us can afford right now."  _

   "Freddy?  Are you alright?"  Winn had this confused look in her eye.  _I think Jack may have gone a little overboard on the laudanum._  

   Cat took a few steps towards the bed, only to be shocked when Winn broke her silence with a flood of curses, all of them centering around her husband and what she found to be an ill-thought out plan.

It was nearly an hour later before anyone could engage Winn in rational conversation without having to endure her foul mouth.  Both Cat and Morgan were somewhat shocked by Winn's vocabulary – Cat because she had never truly seen her sister-in-law enraged, Morgan because he expected at least a semblance of civility from his granddaughter.  Only Ry stood nearby and watched her outbursts with some resemblance of equanimity.  He had seen his sister truly mad once or twice before, and had frankly been expecting this since the night before.  

   _"She's going to be furious, you know that, right?" he had asked his newest and last brother-in-law.  (Cat had several younger brothers.)_

   Jack had only shrugged.  _"She didn't leave me with much of a choice.  I can't take her with me to find the man who apparently wants her head, and no matter how much reassurance I give her, we both know this is a dangerous and perhaps foolhardy thing I'm setting out to do.  I'll risk my own neck because I know that I'll do whatever it takes to come back for her – but I won't risk her neck, or allow her to do so."  He shrugged again, grim humor lighting up his eyes – the smile of a man who was willing to take his humor where he could find it.  _"Besides, as she so astutely pointed out, it did seem that I owed her . . . and I usually try to pay my debts."__

Cat had interrupted the conversation between the two men.  Jack had explained matters and was trying to leave, but it wasn't working well.  _"I don't understand what this Greek has to do with anything.  How exactly does a man named Stephanopoulos fit into this . . . situation?" _

_   "He's the contact man.  He has nothing to do with this at all, other than he knows where to find the man who's orchestrating it all."  _Jack held his hands away from his body in a gesture of confusion or supplication – it was hard to tell sometimes.  _"Look after Winnie for me?  Don't let her leave the island.  I don't want her haring off to find me.  She'll find trouble instead and we already have more than enough of that commodity on our hands."_  He tipped his hat.  _"Now if you'll excuse me, my ship and my crew are awaiting my return.  Tell Winnie to stay out of trouble and to remember my promise."_  And with that he had left.

   _And left us to deal with a mad Freddy.  Not that he blamed the man.  If someone had been threatening Cat, he would have done the same thing.  __Yes, but Cat would listen to reason.  At least I think she would.  He just wished there had been a way to leave his sister here without infuriating her first.  By this time he was hoping that Sparrow would live simply so he could throttle the man.  "Freddy, as much as I sympathize with your plight, will you please just shut your bloody trap?"  Winn paused mid-rant to glare at her brother.  "And don't suggest that I go off and do something considered rude in polite company.  I do have children in the house, and I think that they've learned enough questionable vocabulary from you for today."  _

   At this Winn had the grace to look abashed.  "I'm sorry.  It's just . . . I'm just _so mad with Jack right now."  Throwing her hands in the air she spun around and stalked to her window.  Glaring out at the view before her, she said, "He tricked me, and now he's out there taking risks on my behalf, and I _hate_ it.  I hate not knowing whether he's all right or not.  I hate knowing that if something happens to him, it'll be my fault because __I am the cause of all this."_

   "Nonsense," Morgan scoffed at the idea.  "Sparrow is doing exactly what I would have done had anyone ever threatened your grandmother."  Ry smiled as Winn turned so he could see her roll her eyes.  Apparently the idea that her husband was acting in a manner that Grandfather approved didn't lay any of her fears to rest.  "It's a husband's duty to look out for his wife.  If he doesn't, then he needs to be flogged until he learns his lesson."

   _Oh yes, that makes me feel ever so much better.  Pirates.  "Why is it that when a woman lets her man protect her she's being smart, but when a man accepts that same protection, he's labeled coward?" Winn quietly asked the room in general as she leaned her head against the glass.  "It's just that he takes so many unnecessary _risks_ when I'm not aboard.  He's such a __pirate, living off the thrill of escape and capture, giving chase, outsmarting his opponents, battling the sea itself to prove," she laughed humorlessly, "to prove that he's 'Captain Jack Sparrow,' and he's still a force to be reckoned with."  _But so am I, and that is the **first thing he's going to learn when he gets back.  It's going to take him ****weeks to earn his way back into my good graces.**_  She weaved on her feet as another wave of sleepiness washed over her.  _The drugs must not be out of my system yet.__

   Turning to her family, she leaned against the wall.  "Now, if you will all excuse me, I think I tired myself out.  I'd like to take another nap."  She watched as both Grandfather and Ry left, and fought the urge to roll her eyes as Cat came up to her.  She knew her sister-in-law was only concerned for her health, but she was fine.  Just drugged and furious with her husband.  "I'm fine, Cat.  Really, I am.  I just need a nap."

   "You've already slept most of the day away, Winn."  Cat rested a cool palm against Winn's forehead.

   "That's because my husband has no idea how little laudanum it takes to knock out someone my size."

   "And perhaps because you just spent the last hour disparaging everything from his parents to his ship to the dirt under his fingernails?"

   Winn reluctantly agreed, "That might have something to do with my current state, yes."  She ducked out from under Cat's hand.  "I'll be fine."

   Sighing in defeat, Cat said, "Very well, go back to bed.  But I'm coming back to wake you for dinner.  You can't stave yourself simply because you're upset."  Winn nodded tiredly, absently pressing a hand to her wounded arm.  It was mostly healed by now, but it still hurt some.  Cat noticed and kissed Winn on the top of the head as if the shorter woman were one of her children.  "Sleep well."

Winn was trapped in her dream again, except things were different this time.  She stood by watching as her dream self lectured the young Italian man, watched as time apparently slowed down as he threw off the men holding him and pulled a derringer out of his boot top.  But as he raised his arm to fire, the figure that was her shimmered and turned into her husband.  She tried to run across the deck to stop what was about to happen, but couldn't move, couldn't make a sound, couldn't even turn her head away from the scene that was unfolding before her.  In stupefaction she watched the young man bring his arm up and fire, watched as the bullet hit her husband, watched him curl forward in pain, but she actually _felt the pain.  She felt the fire of the bullet wound as she instinctively hunched over to protect her injured belly.  Then, before the fire of impact could diminish, it changed – became a ripping sort of pain.  Finding she was able to make sound, she screamed, gripping her abdomen as the pain went on and on.  She collapsed to the deck under its burden.  Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pain stopped as cleanly as if it had never even existed.  Releasing her stomach, she looked at her hands.  They were covered in blood.  _Jack . . . ._  Getting to her knees, she looked around.  Everyone had disappeared, everything but the body of her husband.  __No . . . ._

   She slowly got to her feet, slowly made her way across the deck.  Jack was lying on the deck, his back to her, curled up as she had been earlier.  She kneeled down beside him and turned his body towards her.  His eyes were shut.  She was unable to tell whether he was dead or alive.  _No.  Not dead.  Please._

   "Mama?"  Winn turned her head.  There was a child standing behind her.

   "Who are you?"  This had never happened before.

   "I don't want any more company."

   "What?"  This child . . . Winn couldn't tell if it was a he or a she, but it had dark hair and dark eyes.  Or where they blue?  She wasn't sure.  Its skin was dusky, a shade darker than her own.  It had a long strait nose and level brows.  If she and Jack could have children, they would probably resemble the child before her.  _The child before her . . . ._

   "No . . . ."  The pain, worse this time.  She screamed, clutching her abdomen in desperation with hands that were still tinted red with blood.  The child in her dream laid its hand over hers and the pain gradually went away.

   "Don't lose this one.  I don't want anymore company."

   _Winn . . . wake up Winn._

   She could feel herself waking up and fought against it.  She couldn't, not until she knew whom she was talking to.  "Who are you?  Please tell me."

   "You know.  Or perhaps you can guess."  The hand holding hers squeezed gently.  "Take care of this one.  Your bird will be fine."

   _My bird?  What?  She looked around.  Jack was gone, a bird stood in his place – a sparrow.  She watched as it tilted her head to look at her.  She could have sworn that if it could have, it would have smiled, but before she could process the thought it had flown away._

   _Winn.  Wake up, Winn.  It's time for dinner._

"Take care of yourself.  Don't lose this one."  The child let go of her.  "Winn, dinner won't stay warm forever."

Winn gasped as she woke up, throwing herself forward in the bed, startling Cat into a small scream.  Winn didn't care, she was too busy examining her hands, front and back.  They were clean of any blood, to her great relief.  She felt a pang in her stomach, then recognized it as the complaint of an empty belly.  "Just a dream," she breathed.

   "Winn!  Are you all right?  You nearly scared the life out of me!"

   Looking up at her sister, Winn felt her newfound sense of relief flee from her mind.  "Cat?"

   Alarmed at the amount of anxiety in Winn's voice, Cat immediately put her minor scare behind her.  "What is it, Winn?  What's wrong?  Were you having a nightmare?"  She took a seat on the bed.

   "Yes, but that's not what has me upset."  Glancing back down at her hands to ensure they were clean she asked, "You won't share what I'm about to tell you with anybody, will you?  Not even Ry?"

   "No, of course not."  _This cannot be good.  "What is it you want to ask me?"_

   Winn looked at the door – it was wide open.  She got up to shut it, then leaning against it, she asked, "If . . . if I had a . . . a miscarriage very early on in a pregnancy, would . . . would I be able to tell it apart from a very heavy menstrual cycle?"

_Oh God, please tell me that this is just some information gathering.  Winn's had so much to deal with in her life, tell me she hasn't had to deal with this too,_ Cat prayed.  Carefully she said, "Yes.  That is possible.  There are times when a woman's body knows when the life it is carrying is too fragile to survive long, so it gets rid of the child.  Usually within the first six weeks or so."  She watched as Winn's face went pale.  _She's going to faint._

  She got up from the bed and immediately helped Winn over to an armchair.  "Sit down, take some deep breaths."

   Winn couldn't hear her over the ringing in her ears.  _"Don't lose this one . . . ."  "I didn't know.  My cycle has been so irregular since . . . since . . . . I didn't know."  She looked up at Cat, trying to hold back tears.  "I didn't know.  I thought it was my body being it's usual unpredictable self.  "I thought . . . I thought that it was just some bad cramps."_

   Asking in a quiet voice, Cat said, "You think you've had a miscarriage?"  Winn nodded.  "When?"

   Gathering what was left of her emotional reserves, Winn said, "There was once, about three months after I got back from England.  And then again about a month after Susan was born," she continued, naming Richard's youngest child.  "And, perhaps another time, three months before Matthew was born."  Matthew was Marcus and Grace's youngest.

   "Oh, Winn."  Cat wasn't sure what else to say.  What did you say?  She didn't even know what she would want people to say to her if she were in Winn's shoes.  She had never lost a child before.  Instead of speaking, she carefully wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law's rigid frame.  For a moment, Winn resisted the embrace, but then she collapsed, sobbing, all her emotional strength gone.  For one instant she was blindingly mad at Jack for leaving her here alone, for not being here to comfort her, but then she was glad he wasn't.  She didn't want him to see her like this.  Didn't want to face him until she could hold herself together to tell him.

   She let Cat hold her, knew that she understood because she was a woman.  Understood what kind of pain the loss of a child could bring.  Maybe she had never experienced it, but she could imagine, better than one of Winn's brothers or even her husband could.  "I didn't even know.  Never knew that something was wrong."

   After about a half an hour, Winn was exhausted.  She had tears left to cry, but not enough strength left to shed them.  She had used it all earlier, in her anger at being drugged and left alone.  She regretted that now, she would have loved to keep crying until she fell into an exhausted sleep, one that would guarantee an absence of dreams.  Turning her head so it was no longer buried in Cat's neck she said, "Cat?"

   "What is it?"

   "That's not all I had to ask you."

   She felt Cat smooth her hair back out of her face.  "I'm sure whatever else you wanted to ask me can wait."

   "No, it can't."  Sitting up, Winn brushed the tears from her face.  "How do you know when you're pregnant?"

   "You think you're pregnant?"  How many more revelations could be packed into this day without Winn going mad?  She had recently found out that she had an unknown enemy who most likely wanted her dead, that she had been marooned by her husband (even though it was with her family), and that she had possibly lost three children, although there was no way to be sure.  _How much more can she take before breaking?_

   "Yes.  I've been tired, hungry and repulsed by food by turns, somewhat emotional – for me at least – and having the strangest dreams."  She gave a tired laugh that was more an admission of defeat than of delight.  "At least if I'm experiencing symptoms, I've made it farther than I ever have before.  That's good, right?  Good that my body didn't immediately reject the baby?"

   "Yes, it's good, but it doesn't mean that it still couldn't.  Your body has been severely injured, Winn.  If you were anyone else, I would suggest copious amounts of bedrest for the next seven or eight months, But knowing you, it'd drive you crazy."  Cat rubbed her face, "I will say that you need to rest.  Take things easy; no running footraces, no piggyback rides or throwing the younger children up in the air, absolutely no practice swordfights, no lifting heavy objects, preferably a minimum of walking – but I'm not stupid –"

   "You make it sound as if I'm not willing to protect the life of my own child, if I am indeed pregnant.  I'll do what it takes to keep this child."  She had never spent much time considering having children of her own, believing that she couldn't and that she was content being an aunt, but Winn was finding that the idea was strangely appealing.  She wondered what Jack was going to think.  He was such a free spirit, and if he had thought that marriage would have tied him down or slowed him down, she doubted she would have ever had to face a wedding ceremony.  But a child . . . that was a rather large responsibility.  _Worry about that after you know for sure that you're pregnant and after Jack has come back.  Until then it's rather pointless, and you have other things to be thinking about.  She realized that Cat was talking to her._

   " – know that you wouldn't purposely endanger the life of a child, but I also know that this isn't something that you've ever really thought about.  When the doctors said that you would be unable to have children, you took their word as the absolute truth – I know you and I know how you think.  You decided that you weren't ever going to have children, and that was that.  I just want to make sure that you have all the information that you need right now."

   "Right now I think I'm ready for another nap."  She saw the sun was setting.  "Or perhaps just to sleep through until tomorrow."  Her stomach growled, tired of being ignored.  "Make that I'm going to go to bed right I after I eat something."

   "What sounds appetizing?"  Cat understood that Winn's body was probably making all sorts of demands on her, and they were probably having a hard time making themselves understood.  Winn was used to demanding things from her body, not to having to listen to what it wanted.

   "Umm . . . fish?  Yes, fish sounds really good – but not stewed.  That would be awful." Cat hid a smile, understood all too well how cravings sometimes made no sense whatsoever.  "And some bread with marmalade.  And do we have any bananas?  Those sound good."

   "Anything to drink?"

   "Milk."

   Patting Winn's head, Cat got up.  "Well, let me see what I can do about getting you some supper.  Don't worry about coming downstairs, I'll make your excuses for you.  Tell the men that you're feeling a tad bit under the weather from Jack's overenthusiastic plan to get you here peacefully."

   "Thank you."  As Cat turned to leave, Winn asked a bit desperately, "You won't tell anyone yet, will you?  I want to be the one to break the news.  About the pregnancy at least.  I don't think anyone but Jack needs to know the rest."  _And I have no idea how I'm going to tell him.  I wouldn't tell him . . . but . . . doesn't he have a right to know?  I'm not sure that this is something I want to carry by myself.  I'm not sure I can.  Why did you have to leave me? she asked her absent husband.  __I need you here, but you're not.  If she didn't stop thinking about this, she was going to start crying again._

   "No, I won't tell anyone."  Winn nodded her acknowledgement of the answer, but was relieved when Cat left.  She had too much to think about and store away for company to be welcome anymore.

   "Jack, I need you.  You'd better come back soon, or I will hunt you down, and no one will be able to stop me," she whispered into the empty room.  But she knew it was an empty threat – she had other concerns, ones that would keep her homebound for some time to come.  There was a scratching on the door.  _Pigeon.  Getting up from her chair, she let the dog into the room.  Settling down by her floor to ceiling window, she absently hugged the dog to her as Pige took up her rightful place by her mistress.  The dog whined, able to tell by some canine sense that Winn was unsettled.  Speaking to the dog as much as to herself, Winn said, "He's coming back.  I'm just watching for him."  _Waiting, watching, and praying – a woman's lot in life.  One I hate but can't avoid._  She rested a hand against her belly, over the part of her that possibly harbored new life.  A life she felt so unqualified to watch over.  __Waiting.  More waiting.  But . . . perhaps . . . . Perhaps it'll be all right.  Taking a deep breath she thought, _It has to be all right.  I'll make sure it's all right.__

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**Author's Thanks – first off, lilitaliandragon – so sorry for missing you in my last thanks!  : (  I've been keeping track of reviews by list instead of printing off a hard copy.  Maybe I need to start doing that again.  Anyway, mucho thanks.**

**To the rest of my wonderful reviewers – you guys are great, and you keep me going.  Thanks a bunch to; Elizabeth Moore, jigglykat, Rebel lady, PeleAmelika, Clover the Sea-Beast, Arwen Lune, jackfan2, Ginny-Star, completeopposites, ao_hoshi, TaraRose, Eledhwen, lilitaliandragon (see above), KawaiiRyu, bobo3**


	11. Storm Hits

**Author's Note: okay, this took me awhile to post, but that's because I wanted to make sure that it was _perfect._  There's a lot of skipping forward time-wise.  Jack's gone a long time, and I really didn't want to explain how each and every day went – just wanted to give you a taste of how Winn spent her days.  This chapter was really just killing time until the next, one of those expletory chapters that every author hates to write, but must so the story flows.  Hope you enjoy it.**

**Please, all of you let me know what you're thinking.  I love hearing from you, even if I might have made you mad . . . which I most likely will.  Read, you'll find out what I mean.**

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**Last Chapter:**

Speaking to the dog as much as to herself, Winn said, "He's coming back.  I'm just watching for him."  _Waiting, watching, and praying – a woman's lot in life.  One I hate but can't avoid._  She rested a hand against her belly, over the part of her that possibly harbored new life.  A life she felt so unqualified to watch over.  _Waiting.  More waiting.  But . . . perhaps . . . . Perhaps it'll be all right.  Taking a deep breath she thought, _It has to be all right.  I'll make sure it's all right.__

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Slowly, ever so _slowly_, the days and weeks passed.  Winn was taking Cat's advice and taking things easy, but doing so left her with so much unused time on her hands.  Her days were spent with a mask on.  She gardened, drew pictures for the younger children, told stories to all the children, and talked with her family.  She still hadn't found a way to tell her brother and grandfather the news of her pregnancy, afraid of how they might react.  She was already limiting herself and her activities – she wouldn't be able to bare it if they limited her further.  So she smiled and brushed off any concerns over why she wasn't her normal active self.

   Her nights were another matter altogether.  She slept fitfully, haunted not by dreams of her past, but of her future.  In some she was happy, her husband by her side as they watched over a sleeping child.  Others were filled with wailing and pleas for a missing husband to come home.  And yet others were filled with pain, as she _knew_ that she had once again failed to deliver a healthy child.  She took to sleeping on the floor at night.  Kept warm by a blanket and her faithful dog, a large pillow cradling her body, she was able to spend hours staring out her window at the sea when her dreams made sleep seem undesirable.

   Before she knew it, a month had passed without any word from Jack.  It was that afternoon that Ry found her in her bedroom packing a seaman's bag with clothing.

   "What do you think you're doing?"  He didn't really need to ask, but he thought he would clarify things before he squashed any plans of leaving that his headstrong sister might harbor.

   "I'm going after Jack.  This is ridiculous.  He's sent no word in a month.  A month, Ry.  It takes a week to reach New Providence from here, and that's if he was being cautious.  You said that he was going to send word when he found out where our mystery man was hiding.  We've heard nothing."  She turned from her packing to face her brother.  "I can't take it any more, Ry.  You don't know what it's like, always being the one to sail off, but never the one to wait.  It shreds your nerves, pricks your mind, corrodes your sanity.  No matter how hard you try to focus on other things, the what-ifs are always at the back of your mind, waiting for an opportune moment to rush in and wreak havoc on your tenuous peace of mind.  I need to know if he's safe."  Her face crumpled as the tears she had fought to suppress made their way out.  "I'm so scared that something's happened to him.  I have to know, Ry.  I can't go on like this.  What if he's hurt, or imprisoned, or dead, or simply not coming back? I have to go."

   Ry was somewhat alarmed.  It had been more years than he could remember since he had seen his little sister cry.  She didn't resist as he hugged her, tried to calm her.  "Well, I think I can lay a few of your fears to rest.  We know he's not imprisoned or dead, because none of the navies in the area would be able to keep from crowing that news from their battlements.  You know that.  The importance of a catch like Jack Sparrow?  Word would sweep the Caribbean like wildfire.  The very absence of news should be an assurance that he's still alive."  Before she could comment on how that statement lacked the assurance it was supposed to carry, he continued, "And you don't have to fear that he's left you."

   "How would you know?"

   "Because your oh-so-intelligent husband asked me to pass along a message to you before he left."

   That got her attention.  She lifted her head from his chest and demanded, "What?  What was it?"

   "He said, 'Tell Winnie to stay out of trouble and to remember my promise.'  What promise are you supposed to remember, Freddy?"

   "That . . . that he'd never abandon me when I need him."  She sighed and relaxed against him.  "I suppose that means that I have to believe him and wait here for him to come back, doesn't it?"

   "I suppose."

   "So . . . are you still planning on leaving?"

   "Not at the moment, but don't you even think for a second that I've abandoned the thought entirely.  If I don't get word soon, I _will leave.  And I will make Jack __very sorry that I had to come after him."_

The very next day, a dried up old salt approached the manor.  He had a sealed letter that he said was meant for Mistress Sparrow.  The man at the gate took it and had it brought directly to Winn.  When it was delivered to her, Winn immediately excused herself from the conversation she had been having with one of the maids, murmuring something about important news.  Going to her room, she locked the door behind her and settled down on her makeshift bed where she could watch the sea as she read.

   Opening the missive with hands that trembled slightly, she saw that the writing was Jack's.  She stared at the letter with hungry eyes, somewhat unwilling to find out what had been written to her, but needing to know anyway.

_   Winnie,_

_I certainly hope this letter finds you faster than I've been able to find this thrice-blasted Greek I've been after.  I really hope that it finds you at Swallows Rest, and not on some ship headed for the Bahamas, because if it hasn't, then you and I need to have a long talk about what "I'm not leaving you" means, because we obviously have attached different meanings to the term.  Winn smiled, shaking her head at just how well her husband had come to know her._  Yeah, I can't believe that I know you that well either, but I'm willing to go with it if it keeps you safe.__

_   I'm sorry that I haven't written sooner, love, but so far my search has been rather disappointing - my prey elusive.  I didn't want to write until I had some forward progress to report, but that doesn't seem as if it's going to be possible.  I already have the feeling that I may have delayed too long, but I have faith that you're at your Grandfather's.  Perhaps not waiting patiently and perhaps cooking up horrible plans for vengeance, but I can live with that.  At least I hope I can.  You can be downright vindictive when you're in the mood to be.  (And you can stop making faces.)  Anyway, enough blather._

_   I don't know how he got word that I was looking for him, but somehow Stephanopoulos found out and he's gone into hiding.  Good to know that I have a reputation as someone you don't want to mess with – not helpful when I'm trying to get information from flighty characters.  Doesn't give me much respect for the man though.  Hiding instead of doing what he can to eliminate the threat to him and his employer?  Shows how hard it is to find decent henchmen these days._

_   I have managed to find out that Stephanopoulos works for a smallish Italian merchant firm, a family run operation.  It seems as if their heyday was a decade or two ago, and since then they've been just able to keep their heads above water.  A family by the name of "Gandolfi."  Sound familiar?  I didn't want your guess to be right, but it seems as if our current difficulties do stem from that unfortunate incident you mentioned.  I'll do my best to make sure that there are no lasting repercussions, however.  And that wasn't a jibe regarding your culpability in all this – just a simple statement.  If you must read into it, read that I want to keep you safe from all that I can._

_   Must go.  I have an appointment with a rather unscrupulous barber for a trim.  Or at least for a shave.  It seems as if I still appear too much the pirate – although not enough for the local militia to take any real interest in my activities.  But I want to flush Stephanopoulos out, so a change of appearance does seem to be in order.  I've decided that a more "respectable" facade would help to facilitate my mission.  I'm not going to let the man touch my hair though – I've spent too many years and dodged Cat's scissors too many times to give it up now._

_   Sorry I drugged you, Winnie, but you didn't leave me with much of a choice.  I need to know that you're safely tucked away, just as you need to know that I'm still safe and evading the law and thinking of you.  All of this is simply biding time until it's safe for me to come and fetch you, love, I hope you realize that._

_   Anamaria says you need to practice that trick throw she was teaching you – it's still as weak as the wine in a cheap alehouse._

_   I'll write as soon as I have more news._

_   Remember my promise,_

_       J. Sparrow   _

Nearly another month passed without any more news from Jack.  Winn took up cross-stitch again out of desperation to keep her mind off her absent husband.  She eventually started making practice samplers on black fabric since the blood from her pricked fingers was adding an illusion of a massacre to what was simply a disastrous coagulation of tangled threads.  Winn also started taking midnight walks on the beach with Pige, sleep at night becoming something she wouldn't even consider unless exhausted.  She hadn't been away from her husband for this long since she returned from laying her past to rest in England.  She hated it.  She wondered if this was how Jack had felt when she had left him and made a mental note to ask him when he came back.

   She carried his letter with her most days, needed the reassurance of the last few lines.  A reminder to practice a difficult knife trick, a promise of more news when more news was to be had, and an admonition to remember a promise – all written in a few succinct lines.  So like Jack.

   When she was counting down the last week before Jack would have been gone two months, another missive arrived at the house.  This one was shorter than the last, Jack's concealed excitement making itself known in every individual letter.

_   Winnie,_

_found the Greek and got the news I wanted.  Our mystery man, one "Ignazio Gandolfi" is interred on a nearby island.  I won't tell you where for fear that I'll find that you've arrived there before I can.  Suffice it to say that I should have this business wrapped up in another week, two at the most.  Be watching for me._

_   Stay out of trouble,_

_       J. Sparrow_

   With this news, Winn found it easier to sleep at night, knowing that her husband would soon be with her.

   The next day she was eating breakfast when her Grandfather emerged from his study.  He studied her for a moment before asking, "Winifred, are you putting on weight?"  After that, her secret was out, and she was almost glad it was.  Her clothing was starting to be less roomy than she preferred, her belly starting to curve out softly – proof of the life within her.  There was no doubt as to whether or not she was pregnant.  There were just the internal doubts that she was going to be able to carry the child to term, but she didn't voice those.  She _wouldn't voice those to anyone but the child's father, and he was taking his own sweet time in coming home.  "Com'on Jack, you've got people depending on you.  Come back."_

"I'm sure I have no idea how you managed to talk me into that, Cat," Winn complained as she collapsed into one of the many armchairs in the house's main parlor.  "I hate shopping for clothes.  Hate it even more than I hate waiting for Jack to come back."  _Which should be any day now._

   "I know you do, dearest, but you're the one who said you wanted to get some new clothes – ones that would help conceal your . . . enhanced figure."

   Winn ruefully placed a hand over her belly.  By Cat's (and the midwife's) estimation, she was nearly four months along now, and she could believe it – her abdomen was starting to round out, providing growing room for the child within.  It wasn't enough to see without careful examination yet, but in another month or so, people would be able to tell she was pregnant _without_ examining her with a hard eye.  All that was missing from keeping her content was her continued lack of a husband.  He had been gone for nearly three months now, and Winn was starting to settle into a life without him which made her mad.  She didn't want to be able to go on without him at her side.

   Remembering that Cat was still in the room with her, and was most likely waiting for a reply to her previous comment, Winn said, "Yes, I know I was the one who suggested it.  The last thing I want is for Jack to be able to take one look at me and guess the news I have for him.  It's just that I _hate having to stand through fittings, and having to listen to polite chatter about how 'radiant' I'm looking."_

   "Winn, we were gone for barely more than two hours.  The shops we went to are used to catering to not only unique styles, but to your own tastes.  There was no haggling over price, color, or quantity.  The seamstresses know you so well that all they had to do was take new measurements and calculate for continued growth.  You were sitting most of the time.  What exactly are you complaining about?"

   "The memory of past visits?"

   Cat rolled her eyes.  "You're incorrigible."

   "So I've been told.  I'm also hungry – don't forget that in your assessment of my character."

   "You're always hungry."

   "That's not my fault, now is it?"

Another week passed in this manner with Winn getting more and more fidgety with each passing day.  No matter how hard she stared at the ocean outside her window or listened for a knock at the door, Jack didn't show up and neither did any more ancient mariners baring notes.

   Three weeks to the day after Jack had said he would be back (at the latest), Ry once again caught Winn musing over travel arrangements.  "Oh no, there is absolutely no way that I am going to let you off this island, Freddy, so stop thinking about it."

   She ignored this declaration.  "Something's wrong, Ry," she said in a faint, distracted voice.  "I know there is.  There was some variable or element of Jack's great plan that turned on him.  And I don't even know where he is, or was, or was headed.  There's too much at stake for me to sit by and twiddle my thumbs as I wait for a capricious fate to inform me of recent events."

   "There too much at stake for you to go haring off," he shot back, staring pointedly at her stomach.  "Or are you forgetting one important little detail?"

   "I'm not forgetting my state of health, Ry.  I never forget.  I've been so good, taking things easy, letting others do things for me that I would never let them do if I were my normal self."  She crossed her arms over her chest and started pacing the room.  "But I'm not Penelope, Ry!  I can't wait idly by, weaving and reweaving the same piece of cloth for ten years as I wait for my seafaring husband to return.  I might as well weave my own burial shroud because that would be the death of me.  That _man will be the death of me."_

   "Let me go then."  Winn stopped her pacing and looked at her brother quizzically.  "Give me a week at sea to conduct a basic search, and if I find nothing, I'll come back and . . ." he hesitated over what he was going to say, but in the end could stop himself.  ". . . and we'll both go to Nassau to see if we can track down your errant spouse."

   "Is that a promise?  Or are you simply trying to placate the temperamental pregnant woman?"

   Ry muttered under his breath, "There's nothing simple about pregnant women."  Seeing Winn glare at him, however, he answered her question.  "I promise, even though both Grandfather and Cat will have my head for it."  Holding up a hand to underscore his words he said, "But I'm only doing this because I have faith that the _Black Pearl_ and your captain will be showing up here any day now."

   Winn stood in the middle of the room, her hands slowly clenching and unclenching at her sides in indecision and nervousness.  "You swear upon the graves of out parents that you'll keep your word?"  He nodded, understanding her agitation all too well to take offense at her doubts.  "Very well, we have an agreement.  I'll stay here until either you or my husband return."  She held out a hand for them to shake on this.  He did, and then left to break the news to his wife and to gather his crew.

   That night Winn dreamed of sparrows.  While she and Jack had been sailing on their wedding trip, they had seen natives in Sri Lanka trapping groundbirds with large nets.  In her dream the same method was being used, but the birds being caught were sparrows.  She watched them furiously beat their wings, trying to escape the silken prison, but all they succeeded in doing was tiring themselves out.  Finally only one bird was still trying to escape.  It was unsuccessful until another, larger bird came along and ripped the net open.  It and the lone sparrow flew off, but a man stepped out of the shadows of her mind and shot at the bigger bird.  She heard a cry of pain, but couldn't tell if the bird had been killed or merely injured.

   She awoke to find streaks of lighting making their way down the sky and rain beating against the window.  Rubbing her face with her hands, she wished that Jack had never taken it into his head to start calling her his little Kestrel.

_Grandfather keeps homing pigeons.  Maybe I should have insisted that Jack take some with him, even if it meant agreeing to stay behind from the start.  At least that way he would have a method of regular communication, and I wouldn't be sitting around nearly out of my mind with worry.  What had started out as a day of sketching had degenerated into an afternoon of pulling weeds and trimming plants.  One of the side gardens had been shamefully neglected, and Winn couldn't help herself from taking matters in hand.  It was about all she could take into hand these days.  Ry was due back in four days' time and all Winn could do was worry about what news he might come back with, which was driving her mad.  That was how she had come to be working on her hands and knees, grinding mud into the skirt of her dress, and sweating enough for her loose hair to stick to her face.  She was hoping that physical labor would tire her out enough that she might sleep uninterrupted that night._

   She was working on taming a particularly wild rose bush when a shadow fell over her, claiming her attention.  She looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun.  It was Cat.  "What is it?"  In all the years that she had known the older woman, she had never seen Cat's face so empty of emotion.

   "You have visitors at the main house."  For a moment Winn felt relief fill her.  She had been afraid that something had happened to Ry as he was out doing a favor for her.  Cat held out a hand to help Winn to her feet.  "Grandfather told me to come and fetch you."

   Not bothering to ask any more questions, Winn walked back to the house as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.  She knew that these "visitors" must have something to do with her husband.  _Please, let everything be all right.  Entering the house through the kitchen, she heard familiar voices coming from Morgan's study.  When she recognized whom the voices belonged to, she did break into a run.  She didn't, _couldn't_ understand why she would hear Anamaria and Gibbs, but not Jack._

The three sailors in the room turned when they heard Winn appear in the doorway.  She was covered in dirt and grass-stains, strands of her unbound hair sticking damply to her face, her eyes ignoring the small group in favor of trying to discover if the room held anyone else.  After confirming that Jack was not in the room, she asked in a voice choked with emotion, "Where is he?  Where's Jack?"  Gibbs and Anamaria looked at each other, and then back at their captain's wife, their eyes calm.

   A chilling sense of fatalism flowed over Winn, freezing her racing heart and sending it plummeting although she barely noticed.  "He's not here, is he?"

   "No, miss."  Gibbs was the one to answer her.

   "Where is he?  Where's the _Pearl?"  Morgan's private room overlooked the cove before the house where ships connected to family were free to take harbor.  The cove was empty.  _Jack never takes a berth in the town.  He always takes anchorage here.__

   "Well . . . ."  Gibbs was unsure of what to say.  _Best to tell the plain unadorned truth,_ he thought.  But before he could open his mouth, Anamaria beat him to the punch line.

   "The _Pearl_ is near destroyed, her captain lost."  Anger laced the female pirate's words.

   All three people watched a small tremor work its way through Winn's body, watched her mouth open and close helplessly and silently, and jumped forward as the woman slumped to the floor, unable to support herself under the weight of this news.

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**Okay, please don't hate me for that.  Please have faith in me.  The story will continue with either a full chapter or an interlude up by late Tuesday or early Wednesday.**

**Author Thanks: jackfan2, ao_hoshi, jigglycat, Ginny-Star, mooney, completeopposites, Clover the Sea-Beast, Saiya-gurl, bobo3, SuzzieQue, captainsparrowsfeistylass, Eledhwen, KawaiiRyu, BeBe, ScratchyCat**


	12. Interlude II

**Your patience is rewarded.  Find joy in this little drabble.  With any luck an actual chapter shall be forth coming tomorrow.  Author Thanks with the next actual chapter.**

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Ignazio Gandolfi stood in a small cabin aboard his flagship and watched with impersonal eyes as the man before him cursed him vehemently.  He supposed the man did have cause.  After all, he had nearly disabled his ship and forcefully removed the man from his command.  And it was somewhat entertaining for the merchant to watch the man rage when he had no chance of escaping his current bonds.

   As Gandolfi had expected, Morgan had fled the ship once she had discovered the plot against her.  The woman was a coward, craven through and through.  But if she placed any value on the life of the man with whom she was corrupting with her loose ways and her false valor, then she would come.  She'd come right to him, and all he would have to do was wait.  Briefly he wondered if he should have had a ship follow the badly damaged _Pearl_, but decided that the pirate vessel wouldn't have completed the journey to its destination anyway.  Without a doubt it had put in at one of the many small islands in the Bahamas chain, perhaps one of the ones famous for repairing ships no matter what shape they were in or who commanded them.  It was a trade he detested; those who turned a blind eye to pirates were no better than the vermin themselves.  But by the end of this venture, the world would have one less pirate to worry about.

   As sudden flurry of curses in Italian caught his attention.  Focusing his gaze on the bound man before him he murmured, "Not as dim-witted as I imagined, it would seem.  You've sailed with Italians?"

   Sparrow shrugged, and replied in English.  "One or two, enough to pick up the dirtier side of the language."  And having said that, he continued to prove it, coming up with some rather inventive although physically impossible curses.

   "You're becoming tiresome, Captain Sparrow.  I'm sure that no matter what language you're using, you're simply repeating yourself, and repetition bores me."

   "I wasn't aware you invited me here for a chat."

   "You're right.  I didn't."  The small smile he bestowed upon Jack made it necessary for the captain to hide a shiver of unease.  His host clearly was not sailing with a full crew.  

   The man took a seat in the room's sole chair.  Conversationally he asked, "Would it surprise you if I said that I don't want to kill the harlot you've been bedding?"  Again he smiled as Jack tried to hide his reaction to the slur against his wife, but the man saw his objection anyway.  "Let us hope that she holds you in the same degree of esteem that you seem to hold her, otherwise I might have to come up with another plan to bring her to me, one that unfortunately would not involve you."  He was tapping his fingers against his arm in what appeared to be a nervous habit.  "But no.  Death is the furthest thing from my mind.  Her death, that is.  Death is all I can think about when I think of her, though."  His eyes started to focus internally rather than externally, but he caught himself.  

   "No mind.  My purpose in coming here was to assure you that you will be considered an . . . honored guest . . . while you are here.  I have no quarrel with you, just with the woman you've been taking satisfaction from."  Gandolfi got up, preparing to leave.  "I hope you weren't too attached to her, because I too intend to see . . . satisfaction . . . from her as well.  And as for her outcome in this . . . I haven't quite decided."  With those comforting words he left, leaving the pirate in an empty room.

   Jack struggled against his bonds, feeling them incrementally loosen.  Not that having his hands free would do him any good.  He hated it when Winn was right.  Pausing, feeling his skin burn where the ropes had rubbed his wrists raw, Jack thought, _Winnie love, you'd best stay at Swallows Rest where it's safe.  It didn't matter what the consequences for him were – he'd outmaneuvered fate too many times to easily give up now – but his wife was another matter.  If fate had set its sights on her, he'd willingly step in and steal its attention.  Even if that meant giving in to a fate he had been cheating for so long.  As long as Winn was safe.  _

   Jack started struggling against the ropes again, ignoring the fresh darts of pain and the slow teasing trailing of blood down his fingers.


	13. Standing to Fight

**Author's Note 1:  just a reminder I got from a recent review.  If you spot any humungous inaccuracies, or historical errors, or just have some suggestions about how to make the language more instep with the times, go ahead and let me know.  I've done maybe an hour of research to do this, and I make no promises to be correct in everything I say.  I am more than willing to fix things, as long as it won't take me hours or cause me to need to rewrite most of the fic.  : )  Love constructive criticism.  It's what made 'Inconvenient' the fic it was.**

**A/N2:  sorry this took a bit, but I really had to figure out where I was going with all this, not to mention Tuesday and Wednesday are two of my busiest days.  So enjoy this and I will try to get the next chapter up before Monday – which should be completely plausible.  And possible.  And probably.  Stop reading my rambles, and read the fic already!**

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**End of the last chapter before the last Interlude:**

   "The _Pearl_ is near destroyed, her captain lost."  Anger laced the female pirate's words.

   All three people watched a small tremor work its way through Winn's body, watched her mouth open and close helplessly and silently, and jumped forward as the woman slumped to the floor, unable to support herself under the weight of this news.

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 "No.  No, you can't be dead.  You promised.  You _promised."  Contrary to popular belief, Winn had not fainted.  Become so overwhelmed that all physical strength had fled her, yes, but she did not faint.  Briefly she looked upon this achievement with a distant kind of pride, but her mind was too busy blocking out the sea of emotions caused by the phrase "her captain lost," to rejoice in the fact._

   Huddled on her knees in the doorway, she started rocking herself back and forth trying to contain hysteria.  She had known.  She had known it was dangerous.  She had known he was in danger.  _Why did you have to go?  Why?_  When tears started to trail down her face she told herself, _Stop it.  You don't have any energy to waste right now.  Keep it together, find out more.  There has to be more.  Don't fall apart yet.  You can't fall apart until you know the whole story.  You're a captain's wife, a **pirate captain's wife.  Start acting like it.**_

   Morgan, Gibbs, Anamaria, and a recently arrived Cat watched the woman as she mumbled to herself, worried that perhaps the sudden news had snapped her wit.  But just as Cat had collected enough daring to approach the hurting woman, Winn gathered her own strength and nerve and stood up.  Her face was free of any emotion, a single tear still trailing down her face the only sign of her distress – that and the periodic shivers that wracked her body.  Somehow this lack of expression was even worse than seeing the woman in a huddle of grief and loss.  More chilling.

   Focusing in on the two messengers with opaque eyes, Winn asked, "What happened?  I assume there was an ambush?"  The two people from her husband's crew looked at each other.  Deciding that Gibbs probably had more tact than she did, Anamaria nodded to him, indicating that he should take up the tale.

   "Aye, miss.  But let me start from the beginning."

* * * * *

After having successfully tracked down Stephanopoulos and after having resolved important philosophical differences with the man, Jack and his crew had gotten the information they needed.  Gandolfi was tucked away on a private estate in the Exuma Cays, a small chain of islands within the Bahamas.  It wasn't an estate that Gandolfi owned, but rather one that belonged to one of his merchant cronies who happened to have won the island from a drunken Englishman in a card game.  It was a perfect place to conduct plans of revenge from; isolated and surrounded by numerous islands.

   Knowing that the man couldn't be so foolish as to be alone on the island, knowing that he had to have hired some kind of protection, Jack made his plans.  They'd sail as close as they dare in daylight, and then wait through the night until the moon rose.  It was nearing full, and if they were very careful, they should be able to come up to the island undetected.  Then they would raid the place, the crew would plunder what they could, and Jack would settle accounts with the Italian.  Simple enough to do and say, harder to succeed.

   It had been near two in the morning before the _Pearl_ had enough light from the moon to inch forward, several men placed on lookout for coral reefs, submerged rocks, or simply shallow water.  As they were rounding the last point before coming in sight of the manor and the surrounding estates, they had received an unpleasant surprise – somehow word had gotten to Gandolfi that they were coming, and he had been prepared.  More prepared than any landsman had a right to be.  There had been two ships waiting for them, and a third hidden behind a headland waiting to block them in.

   The _Pearl _and her crew had fought tenaciously, managing to hold off two of the ships and inflicting enough damage to the third to keep it from being a further threat, but they had been outmanned, outgunned, and outmaneuvered.  Their luck did not hold.  The _Pearl _took more cannon balls to her hull than she had stored on the gun deck.  There had been no way for them to resist a boarding party, but they did try.  Gandolfi didn't manage to win a clean victory or a cheap one – many of his men fell to the pirates.  Unfortunately, the pirates also lost crewmen.  Crewmen who had seen what others hadn't – most of the enemy was trying to get to the captain.

   Jack was furious with himself for not scouting out the area first, for not heeding Winn's warnings that it just might be possible for him to neglect some minor detail, for being so caught up in his anger that he'd overlooked something some crucial point.  Yes, he loved his wife, and yes, she did tend to be an argumentative nag at times, but she always managed to catch the things he missed.  _"We're partners in this Jack . . . ."   Blast the woman for being right this time._

   As he was musing over this point, he was caught off guard by a pistol butt to the back of the head.  The sounds of clanging swords and firing pistols had covered up the approach of the man behind him.  His last conscious thought had been that this man had no idea how to fight fairly, which was a major concession coming from a pirate who had lived his life fighting unfairly.

   When Jack had fallen to the deck, a pistol pointed at him, the rest of the crew had reluctantly surrendered, expecting to be rounded up and taken into some sort of custody.  They weren't.  Instead they were forced to watch as their captain had been ingloriously carted to what was obviously this small fleet's flagship.  It was disgusting, they thought with burning righteousness, how this man flaunted the honor of a pirate.  To simply attack a man while his back was turned – it wasn't right.  Even pirates had a sense of fair play, even if they often disregarded it.

   Had they been in any condition to fight any longer, they would have put the fear of sea into this man who defied all the rules of naval warfare.  But they weren't.  Neither crew nor ship were in any condition to do anything other than watch the two able ships sail away with their captain and dread the knowledge that one of them was going to have to break the news to his lady.

* * * * *

_   He was alive.  They took him alive.  Not dead.  Relief was a cold comfort to Winn.  Right now the only comfort that could warm her was either the arms of her husband or the blood of the man who had taken him.  _He must hate the situation more than I do, to be stripped of rank and dignity like that._  "What happened to the __Pearl?"  She knew they were all surprised by the question, knew that they thought she should be more concerned with making plans to regain her spouse.  And she was, but she also knew that Jack's first question after "What in all the levels of heaven and hell are you doing here?" was going to be "How's my ship?"  She intended to be able to tell him._

   After staring at her for what was nearly an indecent amount of time, Gibbs replied, "We managed to sail her to Wright Cape . . . ."

   "That's in the Ragged Island Range?"  Winn became aware that she was sitting in a chair with a dog's head resting on her knee and a hand resting on her shoulder.  She turned to find whom it belonged to.  Ry.  _That's how they got here,_ she thought dazedly.  Looking back to Gibbs, she saw her grandfather had taken his seat behind his desk and that Marty had taken a position by his shoulder, preening contentedly.  "That's an island known for it's shipwrights, correct?"

   "Aye."

   Winn nodded, trying to get her mind to function, to get the gears in her head to stop grinding against each other.  _Collapse later – I need to be able to think right now.  Clear head.  Can't feel, can't feel.  It hurts but I can't feel it.  "Is she salvageable?  Or is she driftwood?"_

   "We spoke to Basil Cuthbert, the head of the shipwright's guild there.  In fact, that's where most of the crew be."  

   When Gibbs offered no further explanation, Winn shook her head in a manner than implied that she was clearly awaiting more information.  "What did he say?  Can she be repaired?"

   "Aye, given several months and several hundred pounds.  And possibly your firstborn child, but we didn't finish negotiations.  Anamaria and I thought it would be best to talk things over wi' ye first."

   Shaking her head, Winn suggested, "What if we merely gave him the run of the crew to speed things along?"

   "The men are sailors, not carpenters."

   "Yes, but they all know _something about making repairs on ships.  If they didn't, they'd be hard pressed to find jobs."_

   "We're not talking about simple repairs, landlubber."  Winn switched her gaze from Gibbs to the practical woman.  "We're talking about what amounts to a complete overhaul.  Not to mention that pirates usually aren't known for staying in one place for long, unless otherwise forced to."

   Rubbing her forehead, the first sign of emotion she had since she had decided to deal with this with the dignity befitting a pirate lass, Winn said, "True as that may be, the men would be able to help.  We'd pay them, and any who wish to leave will be allowed to – with the understanding that once they leave, they need not expect to be given back their positions."

   "And where are we to get this money, Mistress Sparrow?  It's not as if pirates set aside money for such things, and we're not talking about pocket cash either."

   Quickly meeting her grandfather's eyes, Winn gave an empty smile.  "Pirates may not be good at setting aside money, but I'm no pirate.  At least not completely.  I think I have more than enough set by to cover the bill for repairs.  Grandfather may have taught me about piracy, but Grandmama taught me about finance.  Smart lady, my grandmother."  Pausing for a moment to think, she continued slowly, "I think I can even pay the crew enough to keep them from deserting."

   "They wouldn't anyway, lass.  Your husband picked out a good crew this time around, and he's been careful in choosing replacements.  He didn't dare do anything less, not with ye aboard."  Gibbs' words caused Winn to blink rapidly to hold back tears.  A reminder of Jack's kindnesses was more than she could bear at the moment.  "Speaking of Jack, lass . . . ."

   "Yes.  Speaking of Jack."  Closing her eyes, Winn murmured to the room in general, "Now that the easy part is out of the way, let us move on to Jack.  If only . . . if only life were simple."  Collecting herself, she asked, "I don't suppose you know why they took him.  I mean, we know why.  _I'm_ why.  But what are they planning?  What's their goal?"

   "This might help answer that question for ye.  The man who took Jack said we were to give this to 'his woman.'"  Well, actually, the silver-haired devil had said something much less complementary, but Gibbs wasn't going to repeat his words.  He had come to respect the woman before him after seeing what she had done for his younger protégé.  She hadn't changed him and hadn't asked him to change, just stood by him in a way that was rare for anyone, man or woman, to do.  Any changes in Jack with Winn at the root were made of the pirate's own choosing, and were all the better for it.

   As Gibbs was thinking this, Winn raised her head and looked at the sealed parchment being held out in her direction.  Then as she switched her gaze to the old seaman holding it, she wondered what he was still doing with Jack.  Surely he could have settled down if he had saved a majority of the profits from some of their raids.  Jack always brought in a good haul; he chose targets that would benefit his crew – if they had what it took to gain them.  But somehow she doubted the reason Gibbs stayed had anything to do with money and more to do with the excitement and odd camaraderie found on the _Pearl._  As she reached out to take the letter, she thought, _He's a good man.  Jack, luck-touched man that he is, had better realize that._  And then the letter was in her hand, and she had no more time to think idle thoughts.  

   Sitting and staring at the piece of paper in her hand, Winn realized that this was one of those rare events that had the potential to change every single part of life that came after it.  Its potential was one that couldn't be delayed, deferred, or snuffed out.  The only option was to choose what course it would take, choose where to release it's awe-inspiring vigor.  She dreaded moments like these, all too used to having them turn against her.  But this time she couldn't allow that.  She had to read this missive and make her plans.  She noticed that her hands were trembling for all the room to see, although she couldn't decide whether to place the blame on fear or anger.  It was most likely a healthy combination of both.  

   As she sat motionless in her chair, as pirates – family and friends – looked on, she gave herself a momentary reprieve.  For a single breath that lasted an eternity, she delayed opening it, not willing to accept what it had to say, but knowing that she had to to keep her world from crashing down around her.  She knew that Gandolfi was most likely proposing some sort of trade, a devil's dowry; an exchange of what were really only transitory lives.  A bargain that she didn't want to make, but gladly would if it meant her husband's life.  **_And your child?  Jack's child?  Are you willing to endanger the only innocent in this entire situation?_**

_   Never!  But as much as I . . . I love this child, I need it's father.  It needs it's father.  If I can only get to Jack, we'll all be safe, because I won't let anything happen to him or it, and he won't let anything happen to me.  Nothing beyond his power.  Beyond my power.  That's all I can promise.  All anyone can promise.  But it's one I'm going to see kept, no matter what.  She broke the seal._

   _Signora,_

_I suppose by now you know that I have . . . extended my hospitality to your . . . lover.  Winn could feel the man's distaste for her creeping in through her pores.  _I suppose that I should turn the pair of you in for adultery, but I have other business with you.  Your Captain Sparrow does not concern me, other than he is useful for garnering your attention.  I desire to talk to you, nothing more.  I desire to hear from you what happened on the _Horizon's Promise_ all those years ago.  Do not fear for your safety or that of the man who has been sheltering you.  I do not wish to kill either of you.  Of that you have my word.  My word as a businessman, as an Italian, and as a God-fearing man.__

_   You can find me on Navassa Island in a fortnight's time – with the next half moon.  After I have been assured that justice has been satisfied, you and the captain will be free to leave.  All I ask is that you come without escort, otherwise I **will** kill my rather hapless guest._

_   With my warmest regards,_

_      Ignazio Gandolfi II_

"You're not going to be able to convince me to not go."  Henry Morgan was unsurprised to hear this rebellious declaration.  He said nothing, letting the sound of his cane against the granite of the outdoor patio fill the silence as he came out into the garden and took a seat next to his youngest grandchild.

   It was night.  The past few hours had been nothing but constant arguments with various family members over whether or not she was going to go after her husband, but she had not allowed herself to be swayed.  Cat wasn't speaking to her at the moment, and Ry was ready to lock her in her room.  Were it not for the promise he had already made to take her to her husband, he would have.  Gibbs and Anamaria had taken her decision with no more protest than a pair of exchanged looks – but they were loyal to Jack and therefore loyal to her.  They would help her as they could.  All that remained was for the old pirate to give or withhold his blessing.

   The two sat and watched the moon rise, its figure waxing towards a respectable half-moon.  From her calculations, Winn had three days – nights – before her deadline passed.  If she left tomorrow she would have just enough time to make her rendezvous.  As she sat preoccupied with arguments to make to convince her grandfather to make way to her will, and running over plans hatched while other family members had talked at her, a stray thought fought its way to her attention.

   When she let out a laugh that was halfway between humor and despair, Morgan asked, "What is it, Winnie?"

   _He's the only person other than Jack to ever call me that.  Everyone else was too scared to keep calling me by the name after I asked them to stop.  _"Do you know what I just realized?"

   "What?"

   "The night of the half moon, while that is an important date in and of itself now, it's also important for another reason this year."  Trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening all day, Winn choked out, "It's the anniversary of our wedding.  Our forth anniversary is going to be celebrated on the ship of a man who wants to see me pay for something that was an accident."  _A horrible, regrettable, and unfortunately fatal accident._

   Morgan was silent for a moment, unsure of how to comfort the girl.  Girl . . . she was a woman grown with a husband and a child on its way.  She had seen more in nine-and-twenty years of life than some had seen in a lifetime.  She was stronger than most women and some men – or at least she had been.  He had undone some of that strength by seeing her become partially dependent on another man.  A man who more often than not provided more than enough strength for her, but in his absence was unable to provide it.  And they both knew that it was possible that without that strength, Winn would be unable to see her way through this mess.  _She was strong and independent once – she just needs to find that again.  "All the more reason to celebrate your fifth year with style."_

   Winn shook her head, willing to leave reality behind for memory in this single moment.  All too soon her time would be filled with plans and more anxiety than she would be able to stand.

_   "Can you honestly say that you won't welcome a change in your life, Winnie?  I've seen you, these last few years.  I've seen your smiles, and heard your laughter, but I've also seen you staring out at the ocean when you thought no one was watching.  What were you thinking when you say the sun setting into the ocean, when you saw the stars rise above its rim?"_

_   "I was wondering what was beyond the horizon."_

_   "You're marrying a man who can show you, who can take you there."_

   She turned her head and met Morgan's eyes.  "You were right, Grandpapa."

   "About what?"

   "Jack."  Once again staring at the moon, she said, "He showed me the horizon.  Has shown me so many _different horizons.  And the sight of all of them have faded in my memory until they're a single blur.  There is only one detail that makes them distinguishable at all . . . and that's Jack.  What he __said, what he _did_, what __we did, the stories he told.  Stories not just about himself but about the history of wherever we were or whatever we were doing.  Histories, and folklore, and superstition."  She sighed.  "I told . . . I __tell stories to the children, and I can see their belief in their eyes.  But I've never believed the tales myself.  But Jack . . . Jack made . . . he _makes_ me believe in impossible things even when I know he's making it all up.  That every line is spun of . . . of spider-webs and moonbeams.  And I love it.  I love him.  It's like whenever he tells a story I feel like a child again, an impressionable teen . . . and I find myself falling in love all over again."_

   Quietly Morgan asked, "Have you ever told him this?"

   "No."  She paused before continuing in a hushed voice, "But he already knows.  I can see it.  I see it in his actions, feel it in his gaze . . . .  And I can hear it in his voice with each story he tells me."  Falling silent again, Winn realized that there were tears trailing over her face like the lamentful caress of an absent lover.  Wiping them away with the back of her hand she said simply, "I'm going to go and get him back, Grandpapa."

   "Why?"

   Winn considered this for some minutes, knowing that her grandfather was looking for more than a conventional reply.  Duty, love, respect, obligation – none of these would matter to him.  After several minutes, she found the words to express why she was going.  "Because I made a vow to guard his life and to never leave him when he needed me.  Because I trust him to do the same for me.  And because losing him would be like stopping my own heart, because I have given it to him and I refuse to take it back."

   "And your child?"

   "Will be given as much protection as its father and I can give."

   "Even if it means Jack dies in the process?"

   _How do I answer that?_  With a heart that was tearing itself into pieces, Winn said, "I honestly don't know."  _But it's possible.  God help me, but I might trade one life for the other._

"Auntie Winn?"  Winn turned from her packing to find Bella in her doorway.  The child had grown up a lot in the past few years.  No longer a scrawny girl, she was entering adolescence with more grace than Winn had.  She had her mother's brown eyes and the dark hair inherited from her father.  Looking at her, one could see the submerged willfulness in her eyes – a desire to do and see and learn everything she could about the world she lived in.  Winn found herself praying for the man who eventually fell in love with her oldest niece – he was going to have his hands full.  And with luck, he would love every moment of it and would treasure such a precious gift in his wife.

   "Yes sweetling?"  Despite her exhaustion and preoccupation, Winn found herself smiling.

   The girl moved into the room with a brief pat on the head for Pige.  Seating herself cross-legged on the bed, she asked, "You're going to go after Uncle Jack?"  

   Winn nodded.  "I have to."

   "But why?  You tried to keep him from going alone, to keep him out of trouble, but he didn't listen.  Why are you helping him now when you were cursing him the morning after he left you here?"

   _Ohh_ . . . serious talk._  "Well . . ." taking a seat on the bed next to her niece, one hand at the small of her back and the other on her expanding belly, Winn said slowly, "First off, this isn't your uncle's mess.  It's mine, and he was simply trying to protect me from it.  And secondly, I love him."_

   "But you're always saying that you can take care of yourself.  That you don't want to hide behind your husband."

   "That's true."  Winn knew there was more coming.  And she was right.

   Bella shook her head.  "I guess I just don't understand how you can love someone who doubts you.  Who treats you like some defenseless whelp who would throw good sense after bad if given the chance.  I wouldn't be able to."

   "Are you so sure of that?"  Bella looked at her in shock, her mouth gaping open.  "Don't look at me like that, dearheart.  Believe it or not, I know what you're going through."  She smiled, shaking her head.  "It's a rare occasion when someone asks about love when they're not feeling it snapping at their heels like a shark after prey."

   "That's not love, Auntie.  That's . . . ."  The girl stopped to think of a suitable word.

   Winn smiled wryly before suggesting, "Being inconvenienced?"  The girl nodded.  "You're right, it does feel like that at times.  Let me tell you a story."  She shifted into a more comfortable position.

   "When I first met your uncle Jack, I couldn't stand him.  I found him to be rude, and irritating, and overly smug.  He didn't pass up the chance to annoy me, and I didn't pass up the opportunity to sharpen my tongue on him.  But at the same time, I couldn't understand why I couldn't get him out of my thoughts.  It drove me nearly mad.  But then, after a talk with your mother, and after reading a letter written for me by your great-grandmother, I realized something.  And that something was that sometimes love doesn't take the shape that people think it should.  It isn't always flowers and secret meetings and exchanging tokens and romantic moonlit serenades.  Love is rarely romantic at all.  In fact, I want you to steer clear of any men who make you feel romantic until you're at least twenty, understand me?"  The girl giggled.  "Anyway, sometimes love feels like you've been wrapped in a blanket of the softest wool, but more often, at least for me and I suspect it might be this way for you, love is getting so fed up with someone that you're willing to leave them in whatever mess they're in – that you want to forget all about them – but you can't."

   "And _that's_ why you're going after Uncle Jack?  Because he annoys you and makes you mad?"

   Winn nodded.  "Yes.  I suppose you can look at it that way.  But no matter how much it feels like an inconvenience, it's one I've forgotten how to live without, and I don't want to remember."

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**Author Thanks: a little more indepth.  Love you all, love hearing from you, love making you think I've done something I haven't yet done, am not going to do, or might do later.  : )  Sorry.  What can I say?  I'm addicted to cliffies and causing reviewer hyperventilation.**

**jackfan2**** – trying to get to your fic, failing miserably, but it's on my to-read list.  I promise I'll get there.**

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**pirates miss (formerly 'saiya-gurl) – yes, did notice the name change.  Must say this one is easier to spell.  : )  You too are a new reviewer this fic.**

**lilitaliandragon**** – nope, don't speak a word of Italian, but I have a friend who speaks several of them.   (She's also ½ Italian, and darn proud of it.)  ; )**

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**Alej**** – Americanisms – an unfortunate side effect to living in America.  : )  Please, feel more than free to send that website to me.  I'd love whatever help you're willing to offer.  And oh yeah, new reviewer!  You rock my face.  **

**Pirates – new**** reviewer!  You rock my . . . my plastic pirate sword.  Yeah, that's it.******

**Savvy-Z – so good to hear from you again.**


	14. Anticipation

**Author's Note: do-do-doo!  Before Monday too!  I'm excited.  This one's a POV feast, switching from person to person.  Next chapter should be a bit more linear.  Author's thanks at the end.**

**A/N 2:  There really was supposed to be more of this, but then I read the latest installment of Estelwolfe's latest fic (the name escapes me at the moment), and I lost pretty much all motivation to do anything other than breathe until she updates again.  Ugh!  The place where she stopped!  I could kill her . . . except not.  You all understand.  I'll see what I can do about writing more this week, but I'm not kidding about the state she left me in.  If you want to complain, feel free to write her. (She's SOOOO good.  I wish she would read my stuff, but she's so busy.  Useless hopes.  *sigh*)**

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**Last Chapter:**

"Anyway, sometimes love feels like you've been wrapped in a blanket of the softest wool, but more often, at least for me and I suspect it might be this way for you, love is getting so fed up with someone that you're willing to leave them in whatever mess they're in – that you want to forget all about them – but you can't."

   "And _that's_ why you're going after Uncle Jack?  Because he annoys you and makes you mad?"

   Winn nodded.  "Yes.  I suppose you can look at it that way.  But no matter how much it feels like an inconvenience, it's one I've forgotten how to live without, and I don't want to remember."

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Winn stood on the deck of the _Kingfisher, staring at the horizon as the sun started to set.  In the distance, the faintest suggestion of land was making itself known to the human eye.  Navassa Island, and beyond that the bigger island of Haiti.  Somewhere on that small bit of land, her husband was waiting.  She knew that the chances of a pleasant reunion between them were extremely low.  Not only because of the situation wrapping them tighter and tighter in its clutches, but because he was going to be furious that she had shown up at all.  Jack wasn't the most overbearing man she knew, but once he had made a decision – especially one concerning her safety – he expected to be obeyed without question.  _That's the captain in him, I suppose._  And now she was blatantly and deliberately crossing that order in what might be the worst way that she could; walking into a tense and dangerous situation while depending on nothing more than their combined intellect to get them out.  _

_   "Stupid, stupid, stupid.  How many times have I asked you to wait for the opportune moment, Winnie?  And yet here you are, risking life, limb, and my sanity without a care in the world.  Do I need to start tying you hand and foot to the bed to keep you out of trouble?"  She knew he was going to say something like that to her when he found she had come after him.  It wouldn't be the first time; she had heard several different versions of this complaint over the years.  _But this may be the first time I've ever wholeheartedly agreed with him.  I'd like nothing more than to wait for him to come home to me, to sit in a chair day after day and make a slaughter of a pair of baby booties._  She looked down at herself, ensuring that her slightly swollen stomach was hidden by her loose garments.  __It's hard enough being pregnant without having to run all over the face of creation in search of misplaced husbands._

   She continued standing in the bows as the sun finished descending.  When the last sliver of molten light was gone, she heard Ry call out for the sea anchor to be dropped for the night.  This time tomorrow, she'd know just what was wanted from her.  Despite the . . . reassurances . . . in the letter, Winn doubted that all that was wanted from her was a recounting of an event that had happened over a decade ago.  She knew that if she didn't expect a reckoning of some sort, then she was a fool.  Sending up a brief prayer, she thought, _Just keep Jack and my baby safe, that's all I ask.  Keep them safe until I can hold them both in my arms at the same time._

Anamaria took some pity on the woman standing by her solitary self at the nose of the ship.  It wasn't unusual to find her here, but she was usually there with Jack beside her.  Not that they ever held hands or indulged in other married behaviors, but it was rare to find her alone as she examined the upcoming horizon.  Even her faithful mutt had deserted her at this time, having been tempted below decks by the cook.  The dog had been causing havoc with some of the men who had been trying to fit in some sword practice at Ry's direction.

   While her family may have been surprised at Winn's determination to rescue her husband on her own, Anamaria had been unsurprised.  The woman _had been surprised when she had offered to come this way with her captain's wife.  She would have preferred to go back to Wright Cape with Gibbs, but she had thought that perhaps it might comfort Winn to have the company of someone who knew her husband nearly as well as she did herself.  So here she was on a ship, condoning an act that she knew Jack would have sooner blasted from the __Pearl's cannon than go along with.  But what could be done?  As much as she liked the other woman, as much as she had come to respect her, she saw her point.  This was a situation that had Winn as its cause, and Winn was the only one who could lay it to rest.  The rest of the family might fear for her safety, and with good reason, but Anamaria was able to look at things through the pragmatic eyes of a pirate; yes it was a dangerous situation, but it was something for which Winn was willing to take responsibility.  And it wasn't as if she would be there alone.  She'd have Jack there, and in the two weeks that he'd been cooped up, she'd guess that he had a plan._

   Winn shuffled her feet restlessly as the twilight deepened, causing the small island on the horizon to be come invisible to her.  _Perhaps she needs someone to talk to.  With that thought, Anamaria approached her._

   Winn, hearing someone come up behind her, threw a quick glance over her shoulder.  Seeing it was the female pirate, she turned back to her surveillance of the sea.  "We'll be there tomorrow around mid-day or so, if the wind sticks with us.  I told Ry we should just sail all night, but he's unfamiliar with these waters and didn't want to risk it."  

   Anamaria nodded, but didn't say anything, waiting for Winn to say what was on her mind.  She didn't have to wait long.  "I don't know if I ever told you this, or if Jack ever told you, but one of the reasons I ran after marrying Jack was that I thought he thought more highly of his ship than he did of me.  And then the first thing I ask after discovering that Jack had been taken by a man who wants repayment for the life of his son is 'How's the _Pearl?'"  She shook her head.  "I knew that Jack would want to know when I saw him next.  And perhaps I still think that I have to contend with his ship for his affections at times, and therefore refuse to feel jealousy for a hunk of wood."_

   For several moments Anamaria was quiet before answering, "Jack's a son of the sea, landlubber.  The _Pearl _has been his home for more years than he wishes to count; he knows nothing else and wishes to know nothing else."  She paused briefly before continuing, "But I'm thinking that it's good that he has a bit of land to keep him stable.  After all, a ship can't take anchor if there's no earth for it to plant in."

   Both women were silent after that confession, neither willing to dwell on it aloud, although Winn took the words to heart.  It was possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.  She felt that the admission deserved one in return.  "Do you think it will upset him to learn that the island where he's found harbor is about to become part of a chain?"  She looked at Anamaria in time to see the question and then the understanding in the other woman's eyes.  "Do you still think I'm doing the smart thing?"

   "I don't think there is a smart thing anymore.  Just a right thing."

   "And you think I'm doing that."

   Anamaria was silent for several moments before slowly answering, "I think that I have no standards by which to judge your actions by, and that right and wrong will have to be decided between you, Jack, and God."

   Winn nodded and turned her face back out to the sea.  "Jack's going to be furious."

   "Aye, but at least he will also be duly motivated to get you both out safely."

   "Mmm.  That's what I was hoping too."

_Hopefully, by this time tomorrow I will either be able to sleep or I'll no longer need to sleep.  Winn had just spent another sleepless night, tossing, turning, and pacing the floor of her cabin.  At one point in the night she had wondered if she had ever had trouble sleeping before she met Jack.  She didn't think she had.  Sleepless nights had been introduced to her only after she had met Jack, and had become common when she was not with him.  She sincerely hoped that her mind had not reached the point where she was so tired that her mind would start making glaring mistakes – errors could not be afforded at this point in the game.  Not now that she was alone._

   _Alone?_ she asked herself.  _Poppycock.  I've got Pige, big fierce guard dog that she is.  Said dog was racing down the beach in pursuit of seagulls, barking and spraying water in all directions.  Walking across several sand dunes to a log that had been washed above the summer tideline, Winn had a seat, glad to be off her feet._

   _However, it would be nice if I had some human company,_ she thought,_ although I suppose that that will be coming along shortly.  Perhaps as soon as the Kingfisher__ is out of sight.  This was the riskiest part of the plan as far as she and everyone else was concerned.  She was following the instructions in the letter, letting herself be stranded on an island alone as she waited for the men who had her husband.  It was at this point that she would be her most vulnerable.  She could be picked off by men with firearms without ever seeing who shot at her.  Pistols weren't the most reliable long range weapon, but rifles did much better.  But she had faith that whoever wanted her wanted to make her squirm before acting out._

   _I just wish that this wig wasn't necessary.  It's hot and it makes my scalp itch._  But without it, Gandolfi would see a stranger, not the pirate that had killed his son.  Although with a sword strapped at her side, pistol and dagger hanging at her hip, and unusual get up, she probably wouldn't be mistaken for a proper citizen either.  Especially on an uninhabited island.  

   As the sun rose in the sky, Winn thought, _I really hope that he thinks I'm overweight – pregnancy would be too much of an advantage for him.  She wouldn't admit it, but she was scared.  If anything happened to this child . . . she had already lost three children.  She'd already failed too many times, she couldn't afford to fail this time.  She couldn't fail the child or Jack.  Not this time.  Not again._

   And so the hours since dawn passed away as she was lost in thought.  It was midmorning before Winn saw the ship on the horizon.  For a moment she thought it was the _Kingfisher coming back, that Ry had changed his mind about letting her handle this mess on her own.  But as she watched it come close enough for her eyes to make out details, she realized her mistake.  This ship couldn't come close to comparing to her brother's ship.  It was bulky, built to carry large quantities of cargo, not for speed.  It lay low in the water, instead of looking as if it skimmed along the water's surface.  It was a merchant vessel . . . an since it was here, it must be the one she was waiting for.  She was the only person on this uninhabited island interested  in trading for anything._

   As she watched the ship come closer, as she watched the distance-shrunken figures of men lower a lifeboat she realized that this was it.  This was her last chance to change her mind.  Her last chance to ensure the safety of herself and her child.  Jack wouldn't blame her for running and hiding – he'd be the first to applaud her for it.  For doing as he told her to without argument for once.  But while she'd most likely be able to live out her life in safety, she'd also probably end up living it out in solitude and definitely with a guilt-ridden conscious.  _No.  No running.  Not again.  No running except to Jack.  Let him be angry with me as long as he understands that I couldn't have done anything else.  That I wouldn't be able to live if I turned away from him, even if doing so would have kept me safe.  Even if it's what he'd rather have me do.  He'd never leave me for his own safety – I refuse to do the same.  Decision made, she stood up, called Pige to her, and slowly walked to the water's edge.  Standing patiently as the tide curled and swirled around the toes of her boots, Winn composed her face, tucked away her emotions as best she could, and set her doubts aside.  If she were to get through this intact, she was going to need to be the ice princess she had once prided herself on being.  She was going to need to fully be someone who had been dying a slow death for four years._

   Jack was going to kill her.

It hurt to walk.  He was fairly certain that he had managed to break a toe while kicking the wall in frustration – a bad habit he'd picked up from Winnie.  How he'd managed to actually do that much damage through his sea-boots was beyond him.  Perhaps the leather was wearing thin.  He'd take a look at that when he had the time to spare.  Right now he was too busy pacing and praying that Winn had had the sense to stay at Swallow's Rest where she would be safe from Gandolfi.  Jack wasn't sure what the merchant wanted, but it was nothing good, and nothing normal.  The man was dangerously unpredictable and it wasn't because he was dishonest.  No . . . the man was unpredictable because something – either losing his son or something since then – had snapped the man's wit.  He was crazy.  Not blatantly so, but just enough to make him a serious danger.  If only he could be certain . . . . 

   He'd be so bold as to hope that Winn had actually listened to him for once, but not even he could work up the audacity to believe that.  No.  His lovely, stubborn, headstrong, pigheaded, fearful Winnie was more than likely running headlong into danger without any consideration at all.

   **_That's not fair.  She's consulted with her heart, and has more that likely decided that it's a fair trade to bargain with her life if it gets you off what she considers her hook._**

**_Yes, but I want her safe!_  **

   **_And she wants you to be safe.  _**-Pace, pace, pace, turn-

_   It's not the same.  I'm an experienced pirate.  I can take care of myself._

_   **She loves you.  -Pace, pace, door.  Pace, pace, pace, turn-**_

   _And I love her.  That's why I want her to stay out of this._  His inner voice was silent.  -Pace, pace, pace, porthole.  Glance out-

   Over the past week or so that Jack had been cooped up in this cabin, he'd lost track of where they were.  The island just visible from the small window didn't help him get his bearings.  There was no sign of civilization, but that wasn't unexpected – there where hundreds of uninhabited islands in the Caribbean.  True, most of them weren't this big . . . but there were enough that were to make any identification impossible.  By the _Pearl_'s masthead, he hated being useless.

   As he stood and looked out the porthole, he heard raised voices coming from the deck.  He understood enough Italian to piece together the orders to man and lower a lifeboat.  What was going on?  Switching to another porthole (his cabin, while it might be considered spacious and it _did have two portholes, it was still a cage) he looked out, able to see a different part of the beach._

   _Oh, for all the gods above, tell me that's an isolation-induced mirage._  Even as he desperately hoped that his mind was playing tricks on him, he knew that what he was seeing was no illusion.  The diminutive figure on the beach could have been anyone – it was the dog standing at the person's side that was unmistakable.

   _At least she had enough sense not to come alone._  This thought covered a rampaging wave of fear and helpless anger.  There on the beach, standing within reach of the tide, was the one person in his life who had managed to slip past the self-confident portrayal of a capable sea captain and embrace the man who was occasionally full of doubts.  Despite his best efforts to keep her sheltered, the only person Jack had fully trusted since he'd lost the _Pearl to Barbossa was risking hurt for him._

   **_Isn't that her choice?  You act as if she'd some piece of fragile glass, good for nothing but looking pretty and holding what you're willing to put into her.  What kind of life is spent while wrapped in layers of sheltering wool?  Aren't you the one who says, "Those who don't take risks merely exist in this life.  It's the risk takers that live it,"?_**  The lifeboat was getting closer to the shore and the woman waiting there.

   _But it hurts when she gets hurt.  I hurt for her._  He wanted nothing more than to be able to appear on the shore to defend his wife.

   **_There you go underestimating her again.  Some would think that even you could learn from past mistakes.  You've had the teaching of her for four years.  You asked her to trust you – can you trust her?_**

**_But if she's injured, or dies . . . ._**

_   **Yes?**_

**_I would hurt._  The admission came out in a small voice.**

   **_And she wouldn't hurt if it were you who were dead?  You don't think that your death would destroy her just as much as hers would destroy you?  Especially if she had a chance to save you and did nothing?_**

**Jack had to admit that he had a point.  He hated that.  Inside he knew that part of Winn's determination to stay by his side was her memories of losing others that she had loved.  _Not fear that I will leave her, but that circumstances will make me leave her.  As he had this epiphany, the boat had reached the beach, Winn was restraining Pige with one hand, and the sun had risen to almost midday.  The time for introspection was over.  He needed a plan.  Soon._**

Gandolfi watched from the deck of his ship as Navassa Island came into sight.  They were approaching the one beach on the isle wide enough to hold a landing party.  His plan was coming so close to fruition.  Soon, if the cold-hearted witch held any value for the life of the man she'd been compromising, he'd be able to move on to the next phase of his plan.  Once he had her and the man, then he could show her exactly what sort of pain she had caused when she had killed his son.

   He wasn't expecting her to be there already.  Indeed, he hoped that she wasn't.  He wanted some time to place some men around the beach before she arrived.  That way if she tried to do the same, he could have his men kill whoever was with her.  He'd tolerate no meddling with his plans.

   Because of that inflexibility, Gandolfi nearly lost his temper when his captain pointed out the lone figure on the beach.  Even before he had raised a telescope to his eye, he had known who it was.  The sun glinted off of golden hair and played along the edge of a gun barrel; the wind played with the wide legs of a pair of pants.  Morgan.  Either she had something up her sleeves or she was more eager than he had expected to be reunited with her lover.  The familiar hate welled up inside him, waiting for an outlet.  _Soon, _he told himself.  _Soon._

*******************************************************************

**Author's Thanks:**

**KawaiiRyu******

**ao_hoshi******

**Mooney – OMg!  I'm soooooo sorry!  I honestly didn't mean to skip over you!  You know I love hearing from you all!  Glad to hear you're going to start a PotC fic of your own.  Let me know when it's up.**

**TaraRose******

**Alej**** – thanks for the site.  I might end up using it later, but probably not for Jack.  I don't know, it just seemed to me that in the movie he had relatively good grammar and such, but had a bit of an accent that affected some his words but not all.  And I try to write him that way.  *shrug***

**bobo3******

**lilitaliandragon**** – I think my friend is half Italian, half German . . . but it might be half American.  (How vague is that?)  : )  But I'm pretty sure it's German.**

**jigglykat******

**BeBe******

**jackfan2******

**SuzzieQue******

**pirate-miss**

**Ariandir******

**Khamul******

**Clover the Sea-Beast**

**VagrantCandy**** – so good to be hearing from you again!**

**Eledhwen******

**Siremaik******

**Fox [The Red Queen] – new reviewer!  Yeah!  You rock my computer screen!  : )**

**scratchycat**


	15. Rendezvous

**Author's Note: sorry this one took so long.  But as I said in the last chapter, Estelwolfe left me completely demoralized and unable to do much except await her next chapter.  Also I had to figure out how to get from where I was to where I wanted to end the chapter.  But I managed, and I sincerely hope to not go this long without updating again.  I look back on the time when I updated almost every day and pine for them – however, this plot is being somewhat difficult.**

**To make up for your wait, here's a nice, long chapter (nearly 6,000 words) for your enjoyment.  Thanks to all who are sticking with me.  I love hearing from you all.**

**Author's Thanks at the end.**

**************************************************************************

**The Part I'm Building Off of:**

Decision made, she stood up, called Pige to her, and slowly walked to the water's edge.  Standing patiently as the tide curled and swirled around the toes of her boots, Winn composed her face, tucked away her emotions as best she could, and set her doubts aside.  If she were to get through this intact, she was going to need to be the ice princess she had once prided herself on being.  She was going to need to fully be someone who had been dying a slow death for four years.

   Jack was going to kill her.

**************************************************************************

Winn watched the lifeboat approach her, and was careful to restrain Pige as it beached some nine yards away from her position.  These men were wary, glancing all around as if they expected a fight.  Perhaps they thought she had men hidden in the lush growth behind her.  She wasn't that stupid.  For all she knew, at the first hint of a scuffle on the beach, Gandolfi would kill Jack.  Ry had tried to convince her otherwise.  She'd disagreed.

   Making sure to speak in her calmest and most bored voice she addressed the men in Italian, "If you're waiting for a surprise reception, you're wasting your time.  I'm here alone, as was asked.  Now, if you would be so kind as to take me back to your ship, I'd like to get this . . ." she waved a hand vaguely.  ". . . this ordeal . . . over with as soon as is possible."

   This was clearly not the reaction they had been expecting.  Winn fought to keep from rolling her eyes.  What _had they been expecting from her?  For her to cower in fear?  They were lucky she was keeping her temper in check.  As she stood here and watched them out of seemingly bored eyes, she could feel her anger growing.  It had been years since she had truly lost control of her temper, but these men worked for the man who threatened the man she loved.  They had helped turn his ship, their home, into a floating mass of driftwood.  She wanted nothing else than to let Pige go, to pull out pistol and sword and attack.  Only the knowledge that this wouldn't help Jack and that she might injure the life inside her stayed her hand.  But if they thought that she was going to fear them, they had a lesson to learn._

   The leader of the small group stepped forward, pointing a pistol in her direction.  Answering her in his native language, he said, "Drop your weapons and come with us."

   She raised her eyebrows as if asking whether or not she was supposed to be impressed, but did as he said anyway.  Bending at the knees rather than at her waist, a move that would give away her secret, she set sword, gun, and long dagger in the sand.  Then standing back up, still meeting their eyes, she pulled up her sleeves and untied the wrist sheaths she was wearing, then dropped them on the growing pile.  Reaching behind her, she pulled a small dirk out of her waistband and a long needle out of the bun of hair on her wig.  She added these to the pile, then pulled another long needle from its place in Pige's collar. Lastly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her highly valued throwing stars.  Jack had bought those for her while they were in Siam during their wedding trip.  She had practiced long and hard to be able to use them with any accuracy.  Giving one up now just added to her anger.  

   _Jack owes me a trip to Siam when this is all finished._   

   **_You're going to be sitting still until the baby is born when this is all finished._**  Ignoring that little fact, she crosses her arms and asked, "Satisfied?"   

   Several men looked at the pile and back at her several times, astonished that a so small a woman could hide so many weapons on her person.  She wanted so badly to snort in distain and ask what they were thinking.  By all accounts she was a murderous pirate.  Did they honestly think that she would have come unarmed?  Their leader however, never blinked an eye throughout her display.  He was the one she had to convince.  He watched her as if he expected her to suddenly pull out a gun and kill them all with a single bullet.  How she wished she could.

"Get out of the boat."

   Winn took a deep breath – things were starting to edge into more dangerous territory.  She needed to show that she was by no means subdued even though she was on the very threshold of enemy territory.  "No.  Not without my dog."

   "Look, wench, you're lucky the mutt made it this far–"

   "You're not getting me out of this boat until I have assurances that my dog will end up on the deck."  The man in change of her for the time being lost his tempter and pulled out a gun and pointed in her face.  Staring him down over the barrel, she calmly said in a tone learned from Jack, "Now, that's not very nice, and it's also not a very effective threat.  We both know your employer wants to talk to me, and for that to happen, I have to be alive."

   "There's plenty of places I can shoot you that wouldn't kill you."

   "Yes, but all of them would impair my ability to climb up the side of a ship.  And you'd just end up hauling me up in the lifeboat anyway."  The man growled, and pulled back and arm as if to hit her.  She sat staring up at him, making sure that Pige didn't jump to her defense.  Before any action could take place, a call from the deck interrupted the tableau, just as Winn had been hoping. 

   "Signor Gandolfi says to just let the dog come up.  We're more than equipped to handle the female dog and her pet."  Winn rolled her eyes, immune to such insults.  It's not as if it were incredibly original.  This time when her foe motioned for her to leave the small boat, she acquiesced.

   It was difficult to climb up the side of a ship while nearly four and a half months pregnant.  The up and down movement of the ship on the water was making her slightly nauseous.  She knew that her stomach would settle as soon as she was on the deck instead of hanging over the water, so she climbed as quickly as she could.  Reaching the top of the rude ladder, she found several pairs of hands waiting to help her over the edge.  She let them reach out and grab her arms, struggling slightly as they turned rough.  Winn heard course laughter as she was pushed to the deck, but she concentrated on breaking her fall rather than on how she was going to repay each crude comment and suggestion.  The last thing she needed was to somehow injure her child.

   "That is more than enough."  Winn looked up from her crouch on the deck to see an older man approaching.  His longish silver hair was tied back in a horse-tail, his slightly lined face clean-shaven.  His clothes were the example of a prosperous businessman; dark, solemn, and impeccably clean.

   _Gandolfi._  Slowly standing up, refusing to appear as if he unnerved her, Winn watched him, watched for any sign that he was going to strike out at her.  For a man who appeared to be in his late fifties-early sixties, he was surprisingly fix.  If she had to guess, Winn would have said that he had actually worked on his own ships as a younger man instead of sitting in some office like most merchants.  _He must have been formidable then.  Who am I kidding?  He's formidable now._

   Speaking in Italian, to undoubtedly make her uncomfortable, the merchant said, "Welcome aboard the _History's Claim, cara."  _

   Winn raised her eyebrows at this term of endearment, but kept silent for the time being.  Until she knew how the man would react to someone speaking back to him, it was unwise to nettle him.  _"I prefer not to irritate the Pearl's__ captain, goading him into actions he otherwise would have never taken."  How long ago had she said that?  Did it matter?  __Perhaps this time I can follow my advice better than I did then . . . not that I'm not pleased with the outcome of ignoring those words._

   "What's wrong, Miss Morgan?  Didn't I assure you of your safety while aboard my ship?  Or do you not understand me?"

**   _Beware of snakes in plain sight and wolves in sheep's clothing.  You're not safe.  You need to get away as soon as you can._**

**_Thank you for that information.  I have no intention of lingering longer than I need to._  Deciding it would be best for this man to underestimate her, she replied in halting and poor Italian, "Yes, I seem to remember that . . . assurance.  Excuse me if I don't place much faith in the words of a man who offered a reward for my capture."  Winn lowered her voice until it sounded as if she had spent years yelling to make herself heard over the elements.  If she had to keep it up for long, she 'd give herself a sore throat.  _Please don't let me need to stay here long enough for that to happen._**

   "You speak Italian?"  Gandolfi's face was as void of emotion as hers was, but he couldn't mask all the surprise glinting in his eyes.

   "Some.  My grandmother was half Italian – she taught me what she could of the language."  She switched to English, "To tell you th' truth, I was ne'er what you would call a . . . capable student.  She gave up after a bit."  The less he thought she was able to understand his native tongue, the more he'd use it to communicate with his crew.  By feigning ignorance, she might be able to pick up a few things.

   Pige growling in the background interrupted her thought process.  She turned her back on Gandolfi, hoping she wouldn't regret the move, to search out her pet.  Several men were keeping her cornered by the rail while another tried to fit a collar over her head.  They'd never succeed if they didn't dare get closer than a few feet to the dog.  Looking over her shoulder at Gandolfi and raising her eyebrows, she simply said, "Signor?  M'pet?"

   If he had been irritated at her abrupt dismissal of his importance, he showed no sign of it.  "Let the mutt go."

   Reluctantly, the men did so.  The released Pige bounded towards her mistress.  At a hand signal from Winn, the dog stopped imitating a feckless pup and did her best impersonation of a grave guard dog.  Hiding a smile, Winn contemplated taking the dog's leash out of her pocket, but decided against it at the moment.  It would be best if it appeared as if she had complete control of the dog without the leather aide.

   "I find it odd that . . . someone such as yourself, would travel only in the company of a ill-mannered half-breed."  Winn turned back to Gandolfi, keeping her face blank.  She knew that more than her dog was being slighted.  "Where are your men, your ship?"

   _Easy girl.  Jack is a gown man, he can defend his own honor.  _Coolly Winn replied, "M'men are where they should be.  Wi' their ship, carryin' out their duties.  Surely you know that th' _Black Pearl was nearly destroyed.  They're seein' to repairs while I fetch back their capt'n."_

   "I find it odd that such an infamous pirate does not command her own ship.  Whatever happened to the . . . what was it?  The _Tide's Raptor?  Was she destroyed, or did you just find it impossible to find a crew that would cower under the command of a woman?"_

   "The _Raptor_ was returned to 'er rightful owner – or at least th' pirate who had captured it.  I was only borrowin' it.  As for th' _Pearl_, my home is there for as long as 'er capt'n and I have an . . . understandin'."  There was no need to bandy about the word "married."  This man wouldn't believe her unless he saw a certificate, and those only came with legal marriages.  Winn had been married in a pirate ceremony, her marriage only considered valid by other pirates.  In this man's eyes she was no better than a Tortugan prostitute, but Winn refused to feel any shame over this point.  Every culture had marriage ceremonies that were not recognized by others.  For this man and the rest of polite society, anyone married outside of the Christian church was an adulterer.  But that didn't matter – what mattered was that she and Jack had exchanged their own vows, before others, and before God.  They were in this for the long haul.  Otherwise she wouldn't be here.

   Slowly surveying his ship, Gandolfi said, "Perhaps you would like to continue this discussion in more comfortable and more private settings.  I've found that it's hard to communicate truth when there are so many distractions to tempt the mind."

   "I appreciate th' offer, Signor Gandolfi, but I believe talk can wait.  Can it not?  I traveled long an' hard t'be 'ere in time t'meet you and your ship.  I'm ashamed t'admit it, but I'm feelin' th' lack of sleep.  Surely any conversation can wait until I've had th' chance t'refresh myself."  _Take me to Jack you treacherous snake.  For all his smooth words and semi-courteous talk, Winn trusted the merchant no father than she could see into his motivations. _

   "Ahh, you wish to be reunited with your . . . captain."

   Winn shrugged, pretending that she could care less.  "Not particu'ly.  He's bound to be upset wi' me for comin'.  Doubtless, he'll have a few choice words for me for showin' up here, but what can I say?  He's good in th' sack, and I don't think he'll thrash me too badly."  Part of Winn demanded that she be embarrassed for saying such a thing, but her reply was, _What?  He already knows we share a bed.  Pretending otherwise won't make that go away.  Besides, he's expecting something like that.  Some self-centered reason for coming here.  A normal pirate would have left Jack here to die and we both know it.  I have to blame my appearance here on some kind of perceived 'female weakness.'  She agreed with herself, but it was still a fight to keep her cheeks from turning a rosy hue.  Knowledge was one thing – confirming it was another game altogether._

   "Well.  I suppose I did promise."  Winn simply watched him out of guarded eyes.  "Very well, this way."

The woman had lower morals than he had thought.  True, she hadn't come right out and said that she intended to get bedded as soon as possible, but it was probably what she was thinking.  Gandolfi was almost disappointed.  This woman was nothing.  She was tiny, practically a non-entity.  What threat could she have posed to his son?  She was ignorant, selfish, and doubtlessly petty.  While his caged sparrow had objected when he had spoken crudely of this woman, the woman herself was motivated by nothing other than physical needs.  How strange.  At least he was right about her corruption.  Now more than ever he was certain of his plan.  She couldn't be allowed to spread her vice and her indifference.

  She was doubtless the very image of Eve in the garden.  Stupid enough to have listened to the serpent and uncaring enough to spread its poison through her disregard of other people.  It was likely that she had killed Tristan just to see him die.  Perhaps once she no longer represented a threat, after she was broken, then Sparrow could see her for what she really was.  A monster who most probably threatened his immortal soul . . . if he hadn't already done that with his iniquitous lifestyle.

   No matter.  All that concerned him now was that the threat she represented was destroyed before she could ruin another life, another generation.  That revenge was satisfied.  That justice was served.  That history was allowed to repeat itself one last time.  The voice of innocence called for it.  The blood of his son demanded it.  The past and the very Fates themselves sought it – why else would she be here, within his reach?

   His plan would succeed.

Jack paced his room.  He had watched the little scene on the beach, had watched as Winn had disarmed herself, his heart in his throat the entire time.  He had watched as the boat Winn had voluntarily, _voluntarily,_ gotten into had returned to the ship, watching as if the moment he removed his gaze from her would be the moment she would be killed.

   But now she was out of his sight, and apart from a few incoherent jeers, he had no indication that she was even aboard the ship.  His mind – his unusually overactive and demanding mind – was devising scenario after scenario in which Winn was harmed, killed, maimed, thrown overboard, tortured.  It had to stop.  He had to slow the mental images.

   It was a pointless exercise.  He had seen too many times how men regarded a female who sailed on a ship.  Had seen too often how an enemy force would treat the women of the people they were trying to defeat.  Had seen too many bodies of beaten or murdered bauds on Tortuga and other ports like it.  The life he lived was not an easy one nor a merciful one.  If he'd only stayed away from Winnie when he had realized how much she fascinated him, then she wouldn't be in this position now.  He was the one that had dragged her into this, no matter how she protested that belief.  If not for him, she'd be safely tucked away with a family member, not risking her neck for a pirate who had seen worse.  Who had escaped worse.

   Jack wondered if they would bring her in to see him.  If they did, he could only hope that she would have the sense to pretend indifference towards him.  If they did, he would have to do so no matter what state she was in.  _I can't!  The side of him that had helped him survive all these years demanded that he must if he wanted to see them both live through this.  Any emotion, any weakness, would quickly be seized and turned against them._

   _Fine, but when we're alone, when we're out of this mess –_

   **IF _you're alone with her, you will tend her injuries but tenderness is out of the question._**

_  No –_

_   **Yes.  Because it would be best if you never dragged her into this again.  Even if this threat is from her past, the next might very well be from yours.  Are you willing to go through this again?  Willing to submit her to more pain and danger on your account?**_

_  What are you suggesting?  The voice was silent.  He knew very well what it wanted.  _No.  I promised.  I made **vows**._  Jack didn't even notice the fact that his inner voice had changed its position on keeping Winn safe._

_   **You vowed to keep her safe.**_

**_I vowed to never leave her as well.  How do you suppose I get around that?_**

_   **I don't.  You'll have to break that one.**_

**_No!_**

_   **What is more important?  Her peace of mind or her safety?  Her happiness or her life?  Let her go.  She can find someone else to make a life with – someone who doesn't represent such a danger to her.**_

**_What makes you think she would be left behind?_**

_   **You're Captain Jack Sparrow.  If you elude the navy, any navy, then it shouldn't be too hard to make yourself just as elusive to a single girl.**_

**_Are you joking?  Have you been paying attention at all these past few years?_**

_   **Do you love her?**_

**_Yes._**

_   **Then you'll leave her and let her live in safety.  Or would you rather keep her with you and one day learn that **YOU****__ were the one that was the cause of her death?  That she did something foolish and got herself killed to keep you safe?_

_   No.  Jack wasn't sure if that was meant to protest leaving Winn or seeing her die because of him.  The half of him that ruthlessly left no room for anything other than survival surged, but for Winn.  Nothing mattered beyond seeing her live.  Whatever it took to reach that goal would be worth it.  Even his own life._

   **_I think you're missing the point._**

**_No.  I will see Winn safe no matter what._**

_   **And yourself?**_

**_Don't matter.  Besides, I'm a dead man as soon as I leave her anyway.  She'll make sure of that, one way or another._**

   Just as that thought finished whispering its way through his mind, the door to the cabin opened to reveal the woman he had been hoping for days he would not see anytime soon.  "Until morning, cara."

Gandolfi led her to the door of a cabin.  To her not so great surprise, it was located under the main deck.  However, she was surprised to find that it was the only cabin in the stern of the ship.  If that was true, it must be rather large – bigger than would ordinarily be granted a pirate.  _Doesn't matter.  He's kept Jack cooped up in here.  Might has well locked him in the brig, that at least would be more truthful than this.  Would carry less of a sense of mockery to it._

   Without a word, the merchant laid a hand on the door, but didn't open it.  "It would please me very much if we could meet to speak sometime in the morning.  For breakfast perhaps?  I would like to get the matter between us cleared as soon as humanly possible, and I'm certain that you are eager to return to your ship."

   Winn nodded, thinking, _Yes, that is very convenient.  I won't be able to eat for the nausea, and therefore won't have to worry that you're trying to poison me._

   Seeing her agreement to this request, Gandolfi opened the door and motioned her through.  "Until morning, cara."  Her temper demanded that she rage against the familiarity of the term, that she dislodge from his head the notion that he could mock a pirate, but she held her peace.  Now was not the time for displays of temper.

   As Winn worked to control her anger, Gandolfi shut the door behind her.  Still somewhat blinded from the sun, she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust before looking around the room.  _Jack.  He was leaning against the wall near a porthole, his arms across his chest, his eyes unreadable.  Her heart sank as she realized, as she accepted, that their reunion was not going to be immediately happy.  __Com'on, say something.  Please._

   Nothing.  For several minutes silence reigned in the room while Winn and Jack stared at each other from their respective positions.  Winn was tense compared to how Jack appeared.  He didn't look happy, please, gratified, surprised, or ever mad to see her.  He just watched her out of blank eyes.  Winn, calming herself and her emotions, draped the same expressionless mask over her face.  She could wait just as long as he to speak, and probably longer.  She had a healthy store of anger built up and could use that to maintain her silence for longer than he could imagine at the moment, and every moment of his silence added to her reserves.  She was the one who had waited months on end for him to do something she had asked him not to.  She was the one carrying his child.  She was the one who was paying for repairs to his ship.  She was the one who had sailed here from her part of the Bahamas to risk her neck to save the one he was risking.  If anyone had a right to enraged silence, it was her.  Not him.

   Finally he decided that he had been quiet long enough.  "I've heard it said that the deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers.  I think that leaving your grandfather's house against my expressed wishes qualifies as betrayal."

   The cold irritation in his voice was too much for Winn to take.  Her temper broke through her icy façade in a single burst.  "The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who in time of great moral crises maintain their neutrality.  Besides, didn't you maroon me with my family?  I wouldn't be so eager to point the accusing finger, Sparrow.  I've been through enough and had enough time to think in these past months to squash any argument you make about my being here.  Do _not get self-righteous on me."_

   "What were you expecting, Winnie?  A welcoming party?  What do you want me to do?"

   "I want you to hit me."

   That broke through Jack's composure.  Out of everything he had been expecting, that was not it at all.  "Come again?"

   "I want you to hit me.  Preferably a slap across the face."

   "I'm not that mad at you, love.  I've never hit a woman, especially my own wife, and I intend to keep that record if nothing else."

   "Hit me, Jack."

   "Winnie, I am not going to hit you."  Her stubborn insistence was breaking his resolve to remain distant.  How could he when the woman he loved was asking him to hurt her?

   "_Hit_ _me_."  He was such a stubborn man.

   Jack rubbed his head as if he were getting a headache.  "Winnie.  Love.  We haven't seen each other in what?  Four months?  And the first thing you ask me to do is hit you?  What is wrong with you?"

   "Three months.  Nothing's wrong with me.  Gandolfi is expecting something like this.  He already thinks that neither of us possess any morals, and I let it drop that I was here against your wishes.  If you don't do something to make him believe me, if we don't do exactly as he suspects, he will get suspicious and it will be even more difficult to get him to drop his guard.  Now, if I could, I would smack myself, but that really doesn't work."  Winn saw that Jack still wasn't going along with the idea.  "I'm not asking for a black eye, just a slap.  A handprint would be nice, but I won't ask that much of you."

   "Winnie . . . ."  He could see the logic behind her reasoning, but that didn't mean he necessarily agreed with her.

   He was weakening.  She could tell.  Winn took several steps across the room, pausing halfway across.  "Trust me, Jack.  Please.  I'm the one that's going to be hit.  I trust you."  Winn wasn't sure what she was doing.  She had never in her life begged to be hit.  But then, she'd never faced so much danger to herself, her husband, and unborn child.  "Just get it over with, please.  It's not as if I find this to be an attractive proposal, merely a necessary one."

   Jack sighed.  "You shouldn't even be here, Winn.  You should be safe at Swallows Rest, telling stories to the little ones."

   She came two steps closer – soon she'd be within arm's reach.  "They've heard them all, I belong at your side, and will you just hit me already?"

   "I don't like this idea, love."

   "I know you don't."  Step.  "But we have to convince Gandolfi that we're going to act the way he thinks we will."  Step.  "You've used a persona to make others underestimate you before.  How is this different?"  Step.  He could reach out and touch her now.

   "It just is."  Jack examined Winn's face, seeing in her eyes that she was not going to give up on this, and frankly, had she been anyone else, he would have hauled back and smacked her already.  But she was his wife.  He was supposed to keep her from getting hurt, not hurt her himself.

   "Jack.  We both know I'm right.  You know you agree with me.  This has to be done, and soon.  He's probably waiting outside the door for sounds of conflict now.  I trust you not to hurt me more than necessary."  He was examining the floor as he thought.  "You know that this could mean our lives.  We get Gandolfi to underestimate us, we use that to plan an escape at the opportune moment, and then somehow we manage to come back and eliminate the threat he poses to us."

   Jack met her eyes again.  "I don't want to do this."

   Winn saw in his eyes the pain this was causing, the sorrow he was already feeling.  "I know," she whispered.  The next thing she knew, fire blossomed in her cheek and her head snapped to the side from the impact of Jack's hand against her face.

Jack caught Winn as she nearly collapsed.  He hadn't thought he had hit her that hard, but maybe he had overdone it.  She was so much smaller than most of the people he faced off against; so much more fragile than she was willing to admit.    Cradling her in his arms, he sunk to the floor, surprised to feel tears seeping through his shirt.  He had seen Winn injured worse than this and hold herself together.  Of course, at the moment they were in a rather stressful situation.  _And how long has she been fretting over my absence?  She's worn out.  Exhausted._

   Winn cried as Jack held her, unsure of her motivation.  Yes, her face stung and she didn't want to touch it except perhaps with a cool cloth, but that shouldn't be enough to make her break down.  It didn't hurt that badly, but it was all she could do to muffle her sobs.  _Hormones,_ she thought as she felt her chest heave with deep breaths.  The last four months and all the news they had contained had taken their toll.  As long as she had been on her own, she had been able to maintain her composure, but now that Jack was holding her and whispering insensible things into the crown of her head, she found the last of her strength fleeing her.  It felt good to cry, felt good to let Jack support her as she let all her confused and conflicting emotions out.

   Jack started rocking Winn as he felt her fingers dig into his back and shoulders.  It had been awhile since he had seen her this upset.  Settling himself more comfortably, resting one side against the wall, he waited for her tears to dry.

   Nearly fifteen minutes later, Winn was able to calm herself down.  It was mid-afternoon and she only had until the next morning to plan and talk with Jack about all that had happened while they were apart.  Still sniffing and drying tears on his shirt, Winn asked her husband in a gravelly voice, "This is some way to spend our fourth anniversary, isn't it?"  Stunned silence met this inquiry.  Angling her head to meet his eyes, Winn asked, "You lost track of time, didn't you?"

   Jack nodded.  "I'm sorry, love."

   Cupping his face in one hand, Winn replied, "Don't be.  It's not your fault.  And Grandfather said this would just be a good reason to really celebrate next year."  Feeling tears threaten again, Winn hugged her husband tightly.  "Despite everything, I don't regret that day, Jack.  I don't."

   "Neither do I."  Hugging his wife back, Jack thought that he had bit more to hug than the last time he had seen Winn.  Squeezing again to make sure, he confirmed that suspicion.  "Winnie?  Are you sure you were all that upset to have me gone?"

   Pulling away from him, Winn frowned, her anger suddenly coming up to the surface again.  "What kind of question is that, you lout?  Of course I was upset.  And worried to death with every day that passed and I had no news from you.  Do you have any idea how close I was to setting out and tracking you down by myself?  Twice Ry had to convince me to stay put.  I was worried sick.  I lost sleep over you."  Winn struggled to her feet.  "And let me tell you, it wasn't a pleasant experience, what with the dreams that you were in danger, and the lack of news, and . . . and . . . and I hate you!  This is all your fault."  Suddenly she stopped and puzzled voice questioned, "Why do you ask?"

   Jack was completely bewildered.  He wasn't quite sure what to say.  "Well . . . it's just that it seems to me that you may have put on a little weight, that's all."  When her face crumpled up to cry again, he hurriedly said, "Not that it doesn't look good on you.  You've always been a little bony, and while that was nice, I suppose that it's natural to start gaining some weight when a woman reaches your age."  No that wasn't right.  "What I mean is –"

   "You think I'm fat.  And old."  Winn's breathing pattern had descended into the jerky motion of someone who was trying their hardest not to cry.  She didn't know what was wrong with her that she couldn't seem to hold herself together.  She had once prided herself on that.  "All I was doing was worrying about your neck, and dealing with the loss of the children, and . . . and . . . ."  She was quickly losing what was left of her composure.

   Coming up to wrap his arms around his wife again, Jack asked with a sense of foreboding, "What do you mean, the loss of the children?  What happened at the estate?"

   "Nothing.  Ry and Cat's children are just fine."  This was not the way that Winn had planned on telling Jack anything.

   "Then what are you talking about?  What children were lost?"

   "It doesn't matter.  Don't pay attention to me.  I'm just a little . . . a little emotional."  A sudden fear had seized Winn, one that she had been harboring since she had talked to Cat.  What if Jack was disgusted by her own inability to realize she was pregnant?  What if he hated her for losing his children?  He couldn't know.  Not now.  Not yet.

   "Why are you emotional, love?"  Sometimes talking to Winn was like trying to decode a tattered and faded map; it took time, patience, and lots of thought.  And the right questions often helped.

   "It's your fault."  It was.  It wasn't as if Winn had the ability to get pregnant on her own.  She wasn't supposed to have been able to _get pregnant in the first place.  What if Jack . . . ?_

   "How is it my fault?"

   "Because . . . because . . . ."  How was she supposed to say this?  All her planned speeches took place when they were both safely reunited at Osprey Point.  Winn didn't know how to say the words here, under these circumstances.  _Then don't talk._

_   Following that advice, Winn removed herself from Jack's light embrace. Taking his larger, calloused hand in hers, Winn silently rubbed it over the slight bulge in her abdomen, watching his eyes as he stared quizzically at her.  Because she was watching for it, Winn saw the exact moment when Jack realized how localized her new weight was, watched his eyes dart downward to examine the area his hand was gliding over._

   Jack's mind absolutely refused to process what his hand was telling him.  There was already too much at stake without this . . . inconvenience.  This couldn't be happening.  Not now.  Not when they had all the complications they needed.  Yet as Jack met Winn's eyes again, as he saw the fears buried there, he saw that it was.

   Trying to hide her nervousness, Winn quickly wetted her lips, then whispered, "I'm pregnant Jack."  Her voice came out small and tinny, and she thought she might faint as she waited for his reaction.

************************************************************************

**A/N 2: I take no credit for Winn's quote about hell.  That is a quote from Dante – either the 'Inferno' or 'Paradise Lost', but I could be mistaken.**

**A/N 3: forgot to say that another reason this is late is because I went to Portland last night and saw Tamora Pierce when she spoke at Powell's Books.  It was so great.  But it didn't leave a great deal of writing time.  *shrug***

**Author's Thanks:**

**scratchycat******

**mooney****- is your mom still reading this?  : )  Tell her I said 'hi.'**

**Siremaik******

**Alej******

**TaraRose******

**jackfan2**** – oh, I am so jealous.  Estelwolfe's beta.  Ugh  I sincerely hope she is just playing mean tricks of the kind I like to play, otherwise she'll be getting _quite a review from me, let me tell you.  : )  Tell her to hurry up and post.  I'm _dying_ here._**

**mooranda******

**KawaiiRyu******

**bobo3******

**lilitaliandragon******

**Eledhwen******

**VagrantCandy******

**captainsparrowsfeistylass******

**pirate-miss**

**Rhiannon – hey!  New reviewers rock my face, my planet, my CD player (which is inconvenient because then the music skips . . . )  Anyway, so glad to hear from you.**

**BeBe******

**SuzzieQue******

**PeleAmelika******


	16. Jack's Thoughts on Offspring

**Author's Note: please, _please_, _please_ let me know if Jack is too OOC.  It's hard to tell because 1) I've never made him this serious for so long, and 2) even I can't _really_ see Captain Jack Sparrow settling down with a family.  (Well, not the settling down part at least.)  I think he may be OOC for the film, but I'm working with the guy from 'Inconvenient' who started as the guy from the film, but then kinda evolved.  Please tell me if I'm writing Jack alright.  Above all, I want my characters to be true to themselves.**

**A/N 2: I decided that I need a muse to pin my lack of speedy updatement on.  (Remember the days of 'Inconvenient' when I used to update every day, and sometimes twice a day?  *sigh*)  Therefore, I officially appoint _Marty the Flamingo to the post of muse since he's not showing up so much this fic, and I know that he had something of a loyal following.  So, check out my future A/N's for fowl hijinks.  : )_**

**Author's Thanks and Baby News at the end.**

*********************************************************************

**Last Time:**

   Jack's mind absolutely refused to process what his hand was telling him.  There was already too much at stake without this . . . inconvenience.  This couldn't be happening.  Not now.  Not when they had all the complications they needed.  Yet as Jack met Winn's eyes again, as he saw the fears buried there, he saw that it was.

   Trying to hide her nervousness, Winn quickly wetted her lips, then whispered, "I'm pregnant Jack."  Her voice came out small and tinny, and she thought she might faint as she waited for his reaction.

*********************************************************************

_ "Don't get me wrong, Jack.  I wouldn't mind having children with Elizabeth some day, just not now."_  Will's words from four years ago rang as clearly in Jack's head as they had then.  He _wanted children with Winn.  He had seen how good she was with her nieces and nephews, had seen how content she was to have twelve children piled into her bed after an evening of telling stories.  Jack wanted that for her, wanted to see her with that same soft maternal smile on her face as she watched _his _children.  He didn't want a gaggle like Winn's brother's had, but one or two young Sparrowlings?  That he wouldn't mind seeing.  He had even considered talking to Winn about it, but she had seemed so certain that she couldn't have children that he hadn't wanted or known how to bring the subject up without hurting her or making her mad._

   But now . . . despite how he felt about the subject under different circumstances, this had to be the worst time for this to happen.  And what was the woman _thinking that she had come out here while pregnant?  Out of all the stupid things she had ever done (in his mind) this had to be her crowning achievement._

   "Winnie . . . ."  The sheer enormity of her news and what it meant for their current situation left Jack speechless.  If he allowed himself to get angry over the incredible risk she was taking, he'd end up saying something he didn't intend, would end up hurting Winn more than a simple slap across the face could.  So he let the protest trail off.

   Oh, she had known it.  Jack wasn't happy.  He didn't want a child.  How could she have thought otherwise?  He was a _pirate_, and pirates, while they liked accumulating wealth, they weren't so sold on the idea of collecting families.  And Jack – Jack in _particular_ –  cherished his freedom.  A child was anything but freedom – it was, at the very least, sixteen years of obligation and responsibility.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't  . . . . I didn't mean for this to happen.  I didn't think it could happen."

   Jack felt guilty.  While he understood that his reaction hadn't been as supportive as it could have been, he knew that he was making her feel guilty when she had no reason to.  It wasn't as if she had decided to get pregnant behind his back, and it wasn't as if she had come after him with blatant disregard for the child inside her.  Jack knew her, _knew she would never do something like that.  If she had come after him, it was with the belief that the two of them together could make things right.  But there were times when simple belief wasn't enough to survive on.  This time though, this time it was going to have to be, because Jack was not about to lose the one thing he had never had before – the chance of having a family of his own.  _

   _I have to make this better._  "Shh, love.  That's not what I meant.  I wasn't blaming you for anything.  I can't blame you for anything without blaming myself as well.  Unless you're plannin' on telling me that not only did you get pregnant but you made a cuckold of me at the same time."

   All suggestion of tears left Winn's face at that comment.  "Jack Sparrow!  How _dare_ you say something like that?!  Only a child of yours could cause so much trouble!  How dare you suggest that I slept with another man?!  You arrogant, overbearing, blackhearted, mangy, pi­–"  Jack interrupted her with a kiss, glad to see that she was no longer about to cry or wallowing in guilt.  At least if she was angry with him, she wouldn't be trying to apologize for something she had no control over and something that under any other circumstances would be a reason to rejoice.  He sincerely hoped that Winn's reactions up until now had just a symptom of the stress she was feeling, because if he had to face months of this, he'd go mad, turn into on of those henpecked husbands he had always distained.  

   At first Winn fought against the kiss, wanting to continue yelling at her insensitive husband.  Of all the things to say.  First he called her a traitor, and then he called her old and fat, and then he accused her of sleeping with another man.  But Jack was persistent and her struggles won her nothing more than having his arms wrap more firmly around her growing frame.  Reluctantly she let go of her anger and started to relax into the embrace, each muscle of her neck, shoulders, and back starting to unknot for the first time in days.  In weeks.

   The kiss eventually stopped, but Jack didn't let her go and Winn didn't try to remove herself from him.  As long as he held her, she could ignore all the danger piling up around them and focus only on the joy and safety the last four years had brought her . . . that her husband have given her without premeditation or a second thought.  It was enough that they had both missed this, had dreamed of this.  Had woken in the night because it wasn't there.  And now that they had it, both were unwilling to break the moment until it became absolutely necessary.

   It could have been minutes or hours later when Jack finally murmured into Winn's ear, "I know you didn't sleep with another man, Winnie.  I just couldn't watch you apologize for something you should be proud of.  Savvy?"  

   Winn nodded against his chest, having come to this conclusion on her own.  She should have known that Jack was simply trying to lighten the conversation by riling her.  It was something he did often, and it was evidence of her own mental stress that she hadn't figured that out as soon as the words had come out of his mouth.  But she was so tired, had had so many emotional ups and downs in the past hour or so that she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than how good it felt to be able to lean against her husband and feel him support her.  She would give anything to just be able to stay here in this position forever.  "I'm so tired."

   "Would you like to go to bed?"  The question was quiet and free of any emotion besides masked concern.

   Winn nodded again, speech suddenly too much of an effort.  Her eyes slipped shut even as she felt herself being led across the room.  When Jack would have removed her outer clothes, she murmured a protest, not wanting to be caught without the protective layers.  He desisted, only to set her on the bed so he could remove her boots.  Winn opened her eyes to watch him, shrugging slightly when he removed her right boot and discovered that she had managed to keep hold of her boot-knife. He shook his head, but slipped the knife into one of the many hiding places on his person.  When he would have moved away from the bed to let her sleep in peace, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and tugged him back to her.  "Where do you think you're going?"

   "To make a plan."  

   Winn shook her head.  "You can do that just as well while holding me," she observed, scooting over on the bunk to make room for him.  "I sleep better when you're with me.  An annoying, but true fact of what is now my life."  _You.  You're my life.  You and this child._

   It had been his intention to leave, but when Jack saw the tension in Winn's shoulders when he tried to move away, he gave up on it.  If she needed to feel him near her then that was enough of a reason for him to do so.  He would never admit it (except under extreme duress), but he wanted to stay physically close to Winn now that she was here as much as she wanted him to stay with her.  "Okay, love."

   Jack slipped off his boots and got onto the bed, Winn quickly scooting over to lean against his side.  It was a common position for them – Jack often awoke to find Winn sound asleep with her head rested on his shoulder and one hand curled over his heart.  And while he had nothing against this, he wanted to be able to hold Winn in his arms, rest his hands over the place their child was growing.

   Gently, Jack turned Winn until her back was to him.  Realizing what her husband wanted, Winn snuggled back against his chest.  Half asleep already, Winn let the rhythm of Jack's heart and breath lull her to sleep.  Before unconsciousness claimed her entirely, she murmured, "Wake me when it gets dark.  We need to talk."  She hoped the kiss pressed into the back of her head was an acknowledgement of her request and not simply an ill-at-ease father-to-be's attempt to humor an emotional woman.

Jack tried to plan, he really did.  It was simply impossibly for him to focus his mind, not that he could blame himself. 

   First off, his wife – who he had come to need more than he thought was possible – had walking into a dangerous and most likely life-threatening situation.  He understood that she needed him just as much as he needed her, it's just that he would have preferred if she had stayed several-miles-away-where-he-needed-her, rather than here-in-his-arms-where-he-needed-her.  And while it was nice to be reassured of her unwitting dependence on him, the possibilities inherent to these new circumstances were enough to chill his veins.

   Secondly (in the order that Winn had established), he had just been reminded that at this time four years ago, he had been worrying about what his new, reluctant bride was thinking.  What she was planning.  What she was afraid of.  And now here he was, still wondering the same thing.  No matter how much time had passed, he still was unable to tell what exactly was going on in her head – how she arrived at conclusions.

_   "I think you have the right to know that should you want it, she would be yours, totally and completely, once she got used to the idea . . . .  What you do with the story I just told is entirely up to you.  I would advise you to think about what I said though.  Nothing with Winn is ever easy, mostly because I think she enjoys being difficult.  She may make your life a misery, but it would at least never be dull."  _

   As much as he hated to agree with the Turner lass over anything, he had to admit that Elizabeth had been right.  Life with Winn was a constant struggle, a constant battle of wills, or matching wits, of sailing dangerous waters . . . and of peace.  Before meeting Winn, Jack had never known that peace could be so tumultuous.  Had never known that contentment could be so full of contention.  True, there were times when the two would get along smoothly, where there would be an accord between them – but it was the knowledge within their out and out, full-blown arguments that made things worthwhile.  The knowledge that no matter what happened, no matter how much fury was released, Winn wasn't going anywhere.  That no matter how angry she was, she was committed to him, and to them, and to making a life together.  When was the last time he had found that in a person?  Never, not that he could remember.

   It was that united commitment to the future that brought Jack to his third point.  Winn was pregnant with _his_ child.  His.  It was only in the past year or so that he had even _thought _about the possibility of having a child with Winn.  The day he had caught up with her on her friend's ship, he hadn't been joking when he had asked Winn if it was enough for her to live out his wastrel life with him, but he had never considered whether it was enough for him.

   Before he had spent time with Winn's, and he supposed _his_, nieces and nephews, he hadn't even liked children.  They had been these short little half-people that would one day grow up to the point when they were a real person.  But now he understood them, and possibly even enjoyed them at times.  He by no means wanted enough children to man a small ship . . . but . . . he _wanted_.  He wanted to see Winn grow round and serene with his child, wanted people to be able to look at her and see just what form their commitment to each other took.  He wanted Winn to have the opportunity to be the ultimate aunt – a devoted mother.  He wanted to leave more than outlandish tales and a list of charges against his name.

   **_When_**_ did Winnie manage to change what I wanted out of life?  **How** did she manage to change it?  What about her did this?  Careful not to wake her, Jack slipped his hand underneath her shirt and started to slowly rub the slight swell of Winn's belly.  __Was it her eyes?  Her sharp tongue?  Winn shifted and sighed quietly in her sleep, pillowing her injured cheek on one hand.  With a twinge of guilt, the reformed bachelor thought, __It was when she ignored Captain Jack Sparrow and made **Jack** express what he wanted._

   Lifting his head from the pillow, Jack saw that the light in the cabin was fading.  The day was drawing to a close with such subtly for a day that had contained so much news of import.  Hours had passed and he was no closer to a plan than he had been that morning.  So, barring a plan, what was the ultimate goal?

   That was simple enough to answer.  Take advantage of any opportune moments, see Winn to safety, then eliminate Gandolfi should it become feasible.

Even though she was being held in her husband's arms and the illusion of safety should have been the strongest here, Winn didn't sleep for long.  Just long enough for her exhausted mind to refresh itself.  She fought to sleep longer, fought to hold of the consciousness that would bring the awareness of danger in its wake, but to no avail.  Sleep fled her like the teasing veils of a harem dancer.

   Winn opened her eyes to find that the cabin was dark, that her face was inches from a bare wall, that her back was pressed firmly against her husband's chest, and that his hands had found their way under her clothes to rest against the bare skin of her abdomen.  Sighing in contentment at the feel of his calloused hands against her skin, she closed her eyes again and focused on Jack's breath rate.  She paused as he finished exhaling, then when he inhaled again, she did so as well.  There was no way he could mistake her for being still asleep, but he said nothing, and Winn was nervous enough to wait for him to open their conversation.

   They continued breathing in concert for some time before Winn finally became impatient and asked, "It's dark.  Why didn't you wake me up?"

   "Are you awake?"

   "Yes."

   "Then why does it matter?"  

   Again they feel into silence, the sound of breathing filling the room.

   "Where's Pige?"

   Jack looked over his shoulder.  The dog was in the same stance she had been in since entering the room.  She was in the classic sphinx pose, her eyes fastened on the door.  "She's guarding the door."  _Guarding her mistress._

   "Mmm. . . ."  

   Again silence descended, Jack's hands still occupied with tracing patterns over her skin.  Several minutes passed before he asked, "How long?"

   "Cat and the midwife thought perhaps five months.  Maybe a bit less.  It's hard to judge, my circumstances being what they are."  It suddenly occurred to Winn that with Jack at her back, she was shielded from anyone who came in the door.  It was too much that Jack had placed them both in a position that he could guard her with his very body should the need arise.  Winn felt tears come to her eyes as she rolled to wrap her arms around Jack's neck.  What had she ever done to deserve this?  What in her life gave her the right to such a complex yet generous man?  She feared for her safety and the safety of her child, but why?  Why when this man had claimed her as his own?  She had seen what he did for the love of a ship . . . what would he do for the love of her?  Why did she worry?  In a hushed yet urgent voice, she whispered, "I trust you, Jack."

   Jack knew by the tone of her voice that with that one confession, Winn was admitting a host of things – none of which, however, were that she was wrong to have come.  She was admitting that she needed help and she trusted him to support her, that she felt vulnerable and she trusted him to protect her, that she was scared and she trusted him to comfort her, and that she was willingly placing their immediate future in his hands without a second thought.  The moment they were out of this, she was going to demand he listen to her again, but for the time being she was going to let him do his job while she did the only one he couldn't do – the job of sustaining their child.

   Wordlessly he freed a hand and gently tilted Winn's face up to his.  He examined her face in the light of the dying sun – even in the shadows he could see the imprint of his palm on the skin there.  It occurred to him that Winn was a bit paler than she normally was.  Was that because she was sick, or had she simply been staying inside during his absence?   Remorsefully he fitted his hand to the mark, watching Winn's eyes as he did so.  "Are you feeling alright?"

   She brought her own hand up to rest it over his, pressing her cheek into the palm of his hand.  "I'm fine.  _We're_ fine."  Even as Winn made those assurances, the memory of a dream and a child's plea rang in her ears, but she thrust all doubts and uncertainty away, determined to do her part in this.  If she trusted Jack to find a way out of this for them, then he needed to be able to trust her – her health, her ability to keep their child safe, her support – just as much.  They were partners and the failure of one, the mistrust of one, would be the failure of both.

   Jack took her assurances even as she took the one in his eyes.  Breaking the gaze, he let his eyes wander down to her belly.  "What do you think it is?"

   Winn shrugged one shoulder.  "I don't know."  This was the conversation she alternately wanted and dreaded.  This was when she would find out whether or not he wanted a child.  He had said things like she should be proud that she was pregnant, that he didn't blame her, and his hands had been incredibly active since then . . . .  But she had seen the disbelief in his eyes, the quickly contained combination of anger and guilt.  "What do you want it to be?"

   His eyes lifted to hers and saw all her fears there.  In the past years she had become a good deal more transparent to him, at least where her insecurities and joys were concerned.  Now he saw that she feared what he was thinking about their elevating status as a couple.  He remembered what the lack of an admission of love had earned him – an errant wife and a side trip halfway across the Atlantic.  It might take him awhile, but Jack Sparrow did eventually learn from his mistakes, and letting Winn's uncertainties get the better of her was one he didn't intend on repeating.  Burying the hand on her face in her hair, Jack whispered, "I want a little girl who is every bit as headstrong and courageous as her mother.  I want to worry about what she's getting up to next and what danger she's courting along the way.  I want a dark-haired fury whom I can hand over to you when she's throwing a tantrum so you know how I've felt often enough in the past."  Winn pinched him for that one, but her eyes were soft and clearing.

   "You want this child?"

   Jack pretended to think about it, then drawled with a self-satisfied smirk, "Well . . . it seems as if it may be a little late to return it . . . ."  He drew Winn close to him, preparing to kiss her, when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.  For a moment they both froze, but then Winn started giggling quietly and Jack started cursing quietly under his breath.  Being interrupted in the wooing of his wife was one thing aboard his own ship, but it was intolerable when they were supposed to be two prisoners left in isolation.  "And will be what passes for our evening meal."

   Winn moved to sit up on the bed, but Jack rolled over on top of her.  She tried to protest as the door swung open, but Jack simply whispered, "It was your idea to encourage Gandolfi's erroneous thoughts, remember?"  And having said that, he bent his head enough that it looked as if he had paused in the midst of kissing her.  He turned his head and watched as one man entered the room, a medium sized tray in his hands.  His partner guarded the door, and both men froze as Pige got to her feet and started to growl threateningly.  Jack saw that the man at the door was going for his pistol, so he snapped in his 'pirate captain voice,' "Heel, beast."  Pige did come over to the bed, allowing the other man to set his burden on the table, but she never stopped growling and never took her eyes off the men.

   The two left as sternly as they had come, although as the door shut again, the sound of Italian and course laughter drifted through the gap.  Winn blushed at the words, and turned her head when Jack tried to kiss her.  Seeing that this was as far as he was going to get in the near future, Jack simply gave her a quick buss before asking, "What were they saying?"

   "Exactly what you wanted them to."  Winn pushed on his shoulders.  "Get up.  I'm hungry."

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**A/N 3: just wanted to run some **baby** **names** past y'all.  I really don't want to choose a name that will make the child sound like a Mary Sue.  There's no reason to think that Jack and Winn's child would be one when their parents aren't.  No boy names in this list since I'm fairly certain that it's nigh impossible to get a Sue-ish name for a guy, but I could be wrong.  Feel free to send in suggestions.**

It's the girl names that have me in a tizzy.  **I simply won't stand for a Sue name for a baby girl.  It won't happen.  There will be no bouncing baby daughter named 'Pearl' or 'Onyx' or 'Liberty.'  I'm going to try to avoid clichés like those.  Tell me what you think of this list I've compiled.  The most liked one might be the one I choose.  I don't know.**

**Names: Alisandra, Bianca, Caitrianne, Diamantina, Eldreonna, Fallon, Galiana, Ileana, Josiane, Kiera, Marieileen, Natalie, Ophelia, Philantha, Riley, Seraphina. Theophila, or Vivienne.**

So?  What do you think?

**Author Thanks: I seriously think that I have some of the best reviewers on this site. Love you all.**

**VagrantCandy******

**Mooney**

**pirate-miss**

**bobo3******

**TaraRose******

**Clover the Sea-Beast – I hope you're feeling better.  I'm not sure what to give a sick sea beast to make her feel better, but here's a lovely bouquet of kelp, sea cucumbers, and anemones.  : )**

**Eledhwen******

**SuzzieQue******

**lilitaliandragon******

**EstelWolfe**** – ok, so I may have been exaggerating the amount of mental distress that the end of chapter 17 was causing me.  Normally I'm like, "ok, really want to read the next installment – hurry up."  But no, there I was at church, messing around during practice (I run powerpoint) and all of a sudden they heard me on the stage (from my cage in the back of the room) doing my best impression of some who can't breathe.  I swear, that your ending had a physical impact on my nervous system.  So, perhaps where I wrote 'demoralized' I should have used 'very anxiously awaiting.'  Yes.  I have been known to make exaggerated use of hyperbole. *nods*  Can't believe you're reading this, but glad you are.  New reviewer, Woot!  You can . . . you can rock my nonexistent PotC calendar, that I would have, should I be able to locate one in time for Christmas.  : )  Look forward to further thoughts from you.**

**Alej******

**Tierra – so glad to hear from you again!  Just the other day I was thinking I should e-mail you and let you know this was up, except I couldn't remember whether or not I saved your e-mail address.  I think I did, but I need to double check.  Hope all is going well for you and yours.  Feel free to drop me a line about anything – love hearing from you.  (BTW – here's your 'whoop, whoop!')  ; )**

**jackfan2**** – I'm soo sorry to have agitated you to such an extent.  It's just that I needed that to happen for later in the fic.  (Next chapter should everyone behave according to plan – which they don't always do.)  Please don't be too upset with me or Jack.  : (  (Didn't think you were serious when you said you'd pass along comments, and found it less likely that anything would speedily come of it.  Now I think I know how people feel when they ask me to read and review.  But I'm not sure.)  What was the first part of your fic again?  I think I need to read that before I read your half – otherwise I will be hopelessly lost, because believe it or not, I am a rather ditzy type of person.  You know Dory from "Finding Nemo"?  I could be her understudy if I could remember any of her lines.  I just come out sounding smart on paper.**

**Kerry – hey!  New reviewer!  Seriously, I love my reviewers, but it's the new ones that make my day.  I am running short of things that people can rock though.  Gimme a minute . . . you . . . can rock . . . my . . . Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer snow globe that is actually a X-mas present for someone else, so please don't break it.  ; )  Hope to hear from you again.  Glad you liked 'Inconvenient' and that you're enjoying this installment of the saga.**


	17. History's Claim

**Author's Note: research!  Ugh!  Research!!  As you might be able to tell, I had to do some of the dreaded 'r' word to get this chapter out to you.  It all started when I came up with the brilliant idea to attach a "Morgan le Fay" connotation to Winn's last name.  I was sadly disillusioned to find that none of my numerous mythology/fable/folklore texts contained anything about the Arthurian cycle.  Nothing.  So, deciding it was still a brilliant idea, I went online.  All I have to say about that is - *grrr!*  So, that is why this is out this morning rather than last night.**

**Enjoy!  Read!  Review!  Try not to second guess where I'm going with this because . . . because I'm probably not going to go there.  You know me – I love my plot twists.  Even though I haven't been using them as much lately.  (Actually having a plot kinda limits your amount of twists.  *shrug*)**

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Needless to say, neither Jack nor Winn got much sleep that night.  It wasn't that they feared Gandolfi might try something, but that they had so many things to think and talk about.  As night drew on and their cabin/cage became dark, they took to sitting on the single bunk, Winn taking temporary refuge in Jack's embrace.  Most of their discussions had Gandolfi and what he may be planning as their starting point, and usually ended with either talk of the baby or silence.  Every once in awhile, one or both would nod off, but never for long.  These hours that they had together were too precious and too uncertain to spend them in unconsciousness.

   The only things they didn't discuss were the possibility of the two of them both coming out of this unscathed and the fact that Winn was there to be scathed.  Both topics were too depressing or volatile to spend much time pondering.  Although Jack did make a silent vow that if they both got out of this with their health intact, he was going to give Winn the reaming of her life.  He was going to yell, and scream, and go on a seething tirade until he was blue in the face, and then he was going to hold on to her and never let her out of his sight again.  Despite his best efforts to stay independent, he had come to need everything about Winn just to make it through his days.  Despite his performance as the undaunted and unconcerned sea-captain, he had come to rely upon Winn to listen to and counsel him when he needed someone to talk to.  Despite his numerous attempts to compartmentalize Winn into a certain section of his life, her influence had spread to every aspect of his being – not to mention his ship.  If he lost her now, he'd have to give up the _Pearl because there were too many reminders of her there.  Of course, for all he knew, the __Pearl__ had already taken a berth on the ocean floor like so many ships before her.  He sighed._

   Winn stirred in the dark.  "You haven't yet asked me the one thing I thought you would."

   Jack sighed.  "Love, it would do me no good to ask why you're here, because I already know.  You made your point often enough before I set out on my own, I don't think I need to hear the reasons yet again.  Although if you insist on another recitation, let me save you the breath and do it myself. 'You –'"

   "That's not what I meant, Jack."  He could hear the wry humor in her voice, a good thing since he couldn't see her face.  "I meant, you haven't asked me how your ship is."

   "Sorry, love, I've other things on my mind right now."

   "No you don't."

   _For all we know, we might both die tomorrow, and she's arguing with me about what I'm thinking about.  Just for once it would be nice if she could let a subject lie and not go around stirring things up._  Jack thought this, but he knew it was pointless.  Winn was Winn.  She was argumentative and she was stubborn and she refused to admit defeat until it came back to stare her straight in the face.  Asking her to be docile and demure now would be the same as asking her to suddenly disappear.  It couldn't be done.  "And why do you say that?"

   "You sighed."

   "I sighed."  While it might have sounded like a question, it wasn't.  Jack was trying to get her to elaborate on her answer so that he could make sense of it.

   "Yes, you sighed.  Not that you never do, it's just that when . . . when we're at Swallows Rest, for example, and we're busy on some sort of family outing or something, sometimes you sigh and I know that you'd rather be on your ship.  And you just made _that sigh.  Don't deny that the __Pearl was in your thoughts.  Not when I know better."_

   "You're turning into such a nag, Winnie."

   "Mmm . . . I know.  It must be your charming influence.  What's bothering you?"

   "Do you really need to ask that?"

   "Jack . . . ."

   Jack was silent for a moment, thinking what a trivial concern his ship was at the moment, yet he couldn't stop hoping that she had managed to survive his last sea-battle, damage and all.  Couldn't help wondering how many of his crew had lost their lives because his ridiculous plan had gone awry.  Couldn't help thinking that he had failed in two of his vows that day; he had failed to protect his crew, and he had failed to protect his wife.  That left his one vow of retaliation against Gandolfi.

   "It's not your fault, Jack.  You didn't do anything that involved more risk than any other aspect of a pirate's life.  Had your crew disliked your orders, they would have either said something or would have found themselves a new captain.  I can't believe that you kept your men in the dark about what you were doing or why you were doing it.  They followed you because they love the _Pearl and they respect you."_

   "You've been talking to Gibbs while he's drunk again, haven't you?"

   "No, surprisingly enough, the man was sober, even though the news he had to deliver was less that welcome and his reception a few degrees colder than warm.  And it wasn't so much what he said as the look in his eyes."  She paused and then continued, "Jack, your crew feels that you did right by them."

   "And you would know this how?"  _How does she always manage to know exactly what the problem is?  How does she always know what to say?_

   "I know this because your crew is waiting for you on Wright Island, repairing your ship in your absence."

   Jack was stunned.  "Winn, the amount of damage to the _Black Pearl was enormous.  Two of her masts were crippled, planking was torn off the side, and the deck had nearly enough holes in it to resemble a loaf that mice have been at.  Her sails were rags, her rails resembled the teeth of an ancient seadog, and the last time I saw her, there was a minor fire started above the galley.  It will take months, even up to a year before she's seaworthy again – and that's _if_ I had the money to pay for supplies and labor, which I don't.  And if you haven't noticed, I have no means of securing funds while my ship is out of commission."_

   "Are you done?"  Winn sounded entirely unconcerned about the points he had raised to his excruciating dismay.  She even sounded amused, as if he had made an argument based on faulty points.  

"Are you done?"  Winn, secretly and guiltily, was amused.  There were few things that Jack got worked up over, but his ship was one of them.  Perhaps it was because it represented the culmination of so many childhood and long held dreams.  "If you are, may I say something?"  There was no reply.  "I know how much damage the _Pearl sustained in your fight – Gibbs gave me a full accounting, and he said much the same as you.  He said that the shipwright he talked to told him that the cost for repairs would be at least three hundred pounds."_

   Patiently Jack asked, "Winnie, what makes you think I have anywhere near that amount stashed away somewhere?"

   "Jack, you know that in normal marriages, that unless the woman in question is either very powerful or a widow several times over, and is therefore unwise to be trifled with, everything the woman has becomes her husband's, correct?"

   "Yes, love.  But unless you missed it, not only did we have a pirate ceremony, but everything you own is already on the _Pearl._"

   "Umm . . . you see, that's where you're wrong.  I lived for twenty-six years without a man in my life, and for nearly ten of those, I supported myself despite the fact I lived with my grandparents.  I had money, and I still have money.  Some of it I got when my parents died, some was given to my by my grandparents, and a great deal was my share of the spoils from the months that I was at sea.  Also, my grandmother was the daughter of a respected and very well-to-do merchant family – she knew something about investing and saving.  Under her guidance, I managed to build up a rather large sum of money for myself.  Enough that I could pay the bill for three or four ships as seriously damaged as the _Pearl._"

   When she got no answer to this, Winn asked nervously, "Jack?"

   "You're telling me . . . that you have over . . . over a _thousand_ _pounds tucked away?"_

   Winn couldn't read his voice at all.  "Well, it's actually closer to two thousand now, but essentially, yes.  That's what I'm telling you."

   "And you're spending some of that to repair my ship."

   "No, I'm spending some of it repair our _home."_

   Silence.  "Why didn't you mention this before?"

   "Because it wasn't important.  You married me, not what I possess.  But we do have enough to make the repairs to the _Pearl_ and to pay the men and the shipwrights."

   "That's not what concerns me now, Winnie.  Why didn't ever tell me this before?"

   "Would it have mattered if I did?"

   "It might have."

   "And if a circumstance had arisen that you had needed to know, I would have told you."

   "Just, just reassure me of one thing, Winnie."  Winn could see the voice that went with the voice Jack was using.  It was an expression of strained patience, of near desperate pleading.  "Why did you feel the need to keep such information secret?  That's all I want to know."

   "Because . . . because . . . ."  Could she really justify keeping a secret like that?  Now that she actually took the time to think about it, Winn could understand why Jack might have a right to be upset.

   "Was it because you wanted to have enough funds to support yourself should you ever decide that things weren't working out and you wanted to leave?"  The anger slowly working its way into his voice unnerved her.  "Was it so you could make sure you didn't have to depend on me?  Was it because you didn't trust me to take care of you?"

   "Jack . . . ."  Why was he being like this?  She had told him, perhaps not as speedily as she should have, but she had still told him.  Why was he getting upset?

   "Answer me, Winn."  The anger had turned harsh, demanding that she give an accounting of her thoughts, actions, and motivations.  It also succeeded in kindling her own temper.

   "Did you ever think that maybe I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid you would think those things?"  Winn struggled to get away from Jack, not wanting to be near him when he was so full of suspicions and doubts.  "That maybe I thought that if I told you, my money would become the thing you valued most about me, and not who I was?"

   "That I would act like a pirate?"

   "Yes, if that's what you want to hear.  Gold can be a curse even if there's no supernatural means behind it.  What mattered was that the money was _there_ should we ever need it.  I do hope that you noticed I said 'we'?  I wasn't keeping an escape fund, Jack, and I can't believe you would accuse me of that after all these years.  If you want the truth, I hadn't even _thought_ of the money in years.  I haven't needed to.  I would be perfectly happy living in a sea-side _hut_ somewhere if only I was sure that you belonged to me as much as I belong to you."  Winn knocked Jack's arms aside and scooted to the other end of the bunk.  "And _despite the fact that all I want to do is see our home restored to its former state, you're angry at me.  If you truly feel that way, then maybe I __will go invest in a hut somewhere until you come to your senses, Jack Sparrow, because I will __not live with you as long as you think that I would __ever let myself have such a convenient excuse to leave you.  I can assure you that should I ever leave, I will have fought and agonized for __months to discover a way to do so."_

   "Winnie –"

   "Don't you _dare 'Winnie' me, Sparrow.  I'm still mad at you."  Despite the trace of remorse in his voice, Winn was still upset enough to keep herself separate from him a little longer.  In the ensuing silence, Winn heard Jack shift his weight and felt a hand rest on her arm.  She knew that it was supposed to be a silent apology, and knew that she was going to give in, but couldn't help saying petulantly, "Don't touch me, Sparrow."_

   He ignored her, as she suspected his would, and Winn allowed herself to be pulled back into a pair of encircling arms.  "You better listen carefully and appreciate what I'm about to say, because I don't say it often.  I'm sorry for doubting you, and I do trust you.  I didn't mean to accuse you of anything.  It's just that you shocked me a bit for a moment."

   "Then why haven't you said anything about the baby?  That shocked you too."

   "Because I'm conserving my energy.  But trust me, love, we will be havin' a nice, long, exhaustive talk as soon as we're free from here.  And you will listen to me without interruption."

    They fell into silence once again.  Several minutes later, Winn asked, "Are you still mad?"

   "No.  Are you?"

   "A little."

   Jack sighed and ran a hand through her hair.  "Anything I can do to help?"

   Winn pretended to think.  "A kiss might help.  But then again, it might just agitate me."

   "I'll risk it."

   "No you won't.  You enjoy agitating me."

   "True, but you must admit that we have ever so much fun whilst I try to make up for it."  She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck, could feel his head lowering to hers in the dark.

   "Yes, but we can't afford that much fun right now."  As her breath bounced off Jack's face to fan hers, Winn stopped talking because it became too difficult to get anything out through the fog overtaking her mind.  _Oh, he's much too good at this._

Dawn came and found the pirate and his lover dressed and once again seated side by side on the bunk.  Jack was no longer holding Winn in his arms, but he had refused to give up her hand.  She clung to it as she waited for Gandolfi or one of his men to come fetch her.  He had said he wanted to settle the matter between them this morning, and from her past experience off the man, he kept to his schedule.  Today . . . today she would learn just what was to become of her and her husband, and just what their chances of escape were going to be.  Today.  She had never hated the word more, but there was no help to it.  She had placed her life within the influence of not only her husband, but of the man holding them both prisoner.  Today she was going to have to give the act of her life and be more aware than she had ever been before.  There was more than just her life or Jack's at stake.  This time, the life of her child, the only child she might ever have, was at risk.  She wasn't about to fail.

   Never taking her eyes off the door, Winn said in an almost inaudible voice, "I won't fail, Jack.  Not this time."

   Jack didn't bother asking what other time she had failed, knowing the state of mind that had prompted the promise.  He simply replied, "Neither will I, love."

   There was nothing else to say or do besides wait.

"So good of you to join me for breakfast, signorina.  Please, have a seat."

   Biting back the comment that she hadn't had any other choice than to 'join him for breakfast,' Winn did as she had been bidden.  As she placed her napkin in her lap and as Gandolfi served them both out of the same dishes, Winn took the opportunity to discretely glance around the room.  There wasn't much to see.  Bare walls and the table at which she sat at.  Even the portholes showed nothing but grey sky.

   "Do you take sugar or cream in your tea, signorina?"

   "Neither," she paused to make him think she had to think to remember the social niceties.  "Thank you."  This obviously wasn't the man's room; she would gain no insight into him here.  Winn picked up her fork as he did, and winced as she saw the eggs on her plate.  Her stomach revolted against the thought of eating them, but what choice did she have?  To not eat, even though their food and drink came from the same containers, would be a serious insult, and she couldn't afford to anger the man at the moment.  Her job was to dance to his tune and pass along her impressions to Jack.  Hoping that she could make it through the meal without embarrassing herself or giving away her changing circumstances, Winn slowly brought a bite of food to her mouth and forced herself to chew and swallow.  She looked up to find Gandolfi's eyes on her.

   "Is the food not to your liking, cara?"

   "No, signor.  It jus' hurts t'chew, that's all."

   "And why would that be?"  Winn turned her bruised cheek towards him.  "Ahh, so your captain was not pleased to see you?"

   "One might say that.  Then again, one might say I asked for it."

   "Why stay with a man who beats you?"

   "Why do wives stay wi' men who're unfaithful t'their vows, who fritter away th' fam'ly fortune on drink, games, and loose women?  It's a matter of security and choosin' th' known evil, signor.  A woman, no matter her status or upbringin', must always be mindful of these things.  E'en women who would seem t'be outside such concerns.  Sparrow may occasionally raise his hand again me, but that's th' worst he does.  Th' same can't be said of other men."

   Gandolfi raised an eyebrow.  "You're quite philosophical about the entire matter."

   _Is that suspicion?  _"Philosophical?"

   "You've given the matter a great deal of thought."  The hint of the roused predator was gone, hopefully placated by her apparent ignorance.

   "Oh, aye."  Winn shrugged a shoulder as she took a bite of toast.  Without waiting to swallow, she continued, "There's not much else t'do when th' ship's becalmed and your man's busy elsewhere."  She swallowed and drank from her goblet of water, praying that the scent of the eggs was not going to cause her to loose the little that had gone into her stomach that morning.

   Gandolfi continued to watch her as she slowly finished a piece of dry toast, making Winn nervous.  Her spine was ready to bow and she wished desperately for longer hair that she could hide behind, wanted to squirm in her seat like a child caught misbehaving, but didn't.  The more indifferent she appeared, the more he would try to bait her into giving something away.  She had to ensure that the only things she ended up giving away where the things she was willing to loose.

   "So, cara, I am curious."  Winn looked up from her plate and met the man's eyes, wondering what his angle was now.  When she didn't ask what he was curious about, Gandolfi continued.  "Wherever did you get your name?  Was it given to you, or did you choose it yourself?"

   "Would it matter, signor?  A name is a name."

   "I see your point.  'That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet?'"  Winn stared at him blankly, pretending she had never heard the overused line from Shakespeare.  "The reason I ask, is I was wondering if you had chosen the name from history, or literature."

   "Forgive my ignorance, but I'm not much of a reader nor a scholar.  Is there a particular Morgan you're talkin' about?"

   "Several.  Have you ever heard of Morgan le Fay?"  Winn shrugged, a reply that could be taken either way.  "If you haven't let me tell you about her.  She was another woman who tried to live outside of societies rigid dictates.  Her brother was named Arthur.  He was a great man, destined to be king of all Britton, but she envied his power, his destiny.  Many times she tried to destroy him, to kill him.  She even turned to magic in her quest against him, becoming a sorceress who tricked even Arthur's own magician into teaching her more of the dark craft.  And in the end, she changed her appearance to make the king sleep with her so she could get a son from him – a son who would later kill him."

   Winn was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.  "The tale seems familiar.  Didn't she also take him away t'an island t'heal him until th' day he's supposed t'return an' once again rule over all good Englishmen?  If she was a healer, she couldn't have been all bad.  Especially t'heal a man she claimed t'hate."  Oh, her stomach was protesting against what she had eaten.  _Please let the morning sickness pass, she prayed.  _I can't afford this now._  "But t'answer your question, no, I didn't choose my name because of her."_

   "Then how about this Morgan?  You may have better knowledge of this man, Henry Morgan, a famous pirate and buccaneer whose grounds these waters were.  Common belief says he raided hundreds of ships in his career, both here and in the Old World.  I even knew the family who owned one of the ships he raided.  He took their daughter and forced her to marry him in some kind of pagan ceremony.  Perhaps this is the man you took your name from?"

   Again Winn shrugged.  "Perhaps, although I think you may be mistaken about th' pagan marriage.  An' the force involved.  I have it on good authority that Isabella Mussolini was a willin' party, an' that she insisted on a Christian ceremony a year later, although Morgan never wanted that part t'get out.  It would sound too much as if he were easily swayed by th' dictates of his wife.  He thought th' other pirates would laugh at him."

   Gandolfi stared at her as if the gates of hell had opened behind her back.  "In the name of all that is holy . . . ."

   "Aye, their marriage was holy.  An' you ask how I know this?  Who d'you think th' grandmother who taught me Italian was?  Why d'you think I go by the name 'Morgan?'  Th' answer is simple.  I'm th' last of th' line."

The woman had to be blessed by the devil himself.  He was no longer dealing with a woman who had no family, no ancestors.  He was dealing with someone who claimed to be the granddaughter of a woman who had very nearly been his sister-in-law before her family had decided to marry her off to a richer and more prosperous English merchant family.  The granddaughter of someone he had long ago given up for dead, a murdered innocent, another victim of pirates and their filthy ways.  Looking closer now he could see the faint resemblance, the shape of her eyes, the point of her chin, the shade of her hair.  It was as if he were looking at a badly painted portrait of the woman he had known.

   And if this woman spoke the truth?  If Isabella had indeed willingly married the pirate Henry Morgan and had willingly bore him offspring, how did that change what he was planning to do?  Did it change it at all, or did it make Isabella Mussolini a traitor to her class and the morals it stood for?  Did that make this woman so entirely deprived of any morals that any plans of vengeance he contemplated not only vengeance but heavenly judgment as well?

   Before his thoughts could become any more confused, before any more doubts could enter his mind and weaken his resolve, the woman bolted up from the table and raced to the door.  Opening it, she just made it over the threshold before doubling in half as her stomach rebelled against her control.  He watched in dismay and delight as she stood, holding back dry heaves, met her eyes as she turned to meet his.  There was nervousness hidden there, anxiety fighting her carefully masked control.  What reason had she to be nervous?  

   Letting his eyes take in the entirety of her form, he saw something he had missed before.  Her clothes were loose and flowing, as if they were designed to hide something.  Studying her more closely, he saw the one thing that could be missed without careful and painstaking examination – the slight swell of a belly, one not caused by an abundance of food and drink.  Indeed, the rest of her was so slim, that it now stood out clearly.  The strumpet was pregnant.

   God smiled upon him.  This wasn't revenge – it was the will of God.  Who was he to shirk his duty?  She had been right when she had said that the line ended with her.

*************************************************************************

**A/N 2: **just a clarification of the **baby names** from the last chapter.  They were intentionally picked out for their incredible amount of Sue-ness.  (Although I did like Diamantina and Marieileen.) I'm sorry to disappoint the majority who liked the name '**Riley' (I swear I can work it into a third story should you all want to read one), but it is a little modern.  Let me assure you that I have the _perfect_ name picked out – one I hope you all like.  **I do need some help with the last name, however.**  Should the child simply be "Sparrow" or should I go along with Winn who is insisting upon "Morgan Sparrow"?  I like the two last names – it reminds me of 'Morganstern', but I'd like your input.**

**Author's Thanks:**  You guys amaze me.  If I were still doing comprehensive thanks to each and every one of you, I'd be at this for hours on end!  You guys truly motivate me.  It's great to have such loyal readers (and friends).

**jackfan2 – **have read through the first chapter of Rat's story.  Will eventually get to yours.  Not reading so much at the moment – too much of a distractions.  I'm such a procrastinator.  ; )

**pirate-miss******

**completeopposites******

**TaraRose******

**mollymo** – **new reviewer!  You can rock the glasses of milk I drink every day, because for some odd reason, your name makes me think of cows.  Don't ask me why, I'm not quite sure how my brain arrives at conclusions.  : )  Great to hear from you.**

**VagrantCandy******

**KamiKazeCreamPuff**** – yeah!  You're back.  Been awhile since I've heard from you.  You were right about the MS element to those names.  You have no idea how much fun I had picking them out of a checked out baby book and imagining the outcries that would arise upon reading them.  *looks around for outcries*  Hmm . . . either my plan backfired, or my reviewers are way to polite to tell me I'm nuts.  : )**

**mooranda******

**Mooney – **thanks for the suggestions.

**Ariandir**** – hope you're feeling better.**

**jigglykat******

**bobo3**

**BeBe**** – Gee, I'm glad someone caught on to my little pattern of giving something of a light hearted chapter before diving back down to the depths.  : )  I do do that, I think mainly to give some sort of release from tension, not only for readers, but for me too.  I can only remain serious for so long before it starts to seem tedious.**

**EricaDawn**** – well, there were pirates around until about the American civil war, after which things just got too dangerous, but the height of pirate activity was between the late 1500's and late 1700's.  Disney never gave us a time period, so I'm going with the early 1700's or thereabouts.  Besides, the Jolly Roger (the pirate flag) wasn't used until the early 1700's anyway.  (Are proud of my research?)  If only I found out what year corsets became popular, I'd really have a time period hammered out.  Good to hear from you who are a new reviewer.  You can rock my nonexistent, yet hopefully forthcoming, pirates books off my bookshelves.**

**Ginny-Star –** thanks for the name suggestions, but as I said, I have a good name chosen that I think you'll all like.

**Daze19 – **I agree, it is about time you start reviewing.  : )  No, just glad to actually hear from you.  New reviewers really do make my day.  I'm running out of things that can be rocked, but you can rock my keyboard, as long as I'm not working on the next chapter or trying to sleep.  ; )

**lilitaliandragon******

**bboarding323 – **glad to hear from you again.  : )

**Eledhwen**** - you also caught onto the purposeful MS quality of those names.  I kept having visions of airheaded Barbiedoll girls when I was choosing them.  *shudder*  I'd never label Winn and Jack's child with one of those.  Winn is way to sensible to even suggest such things.  Let me just say that the name will be a blend of Welsh, Winn, and Jack.**

**SuzzieQue**** – you're the second person to mention my pattern of making a calm before the storm. (Wasn't that the name of the chapter?)  It's like I need to reward myself for making it through the last few chapters and a bolster for the next few to come.  These next in particular are going to be difficult to write.**

**Clover the Sea-Beast – **look!  This week I brought you a whole chest of pretty sea baubles.  Shells, and shells, and those little glass pebbles you can find, and pretty rocks, and more shells that I found, and a Spanish doubloon, and some kind of ancient Greek coin, and more shells . . . . Feeling better yet?  Or have you simply 'goo-ed' someone recently.  : )

**SprklingSatine**** – love your name, love that you're a new reviewer.  You can rock my bottle of Martinelli's sparkling cider, what say you to that?  : )  Glad that you appreciate the hard work that's gone into making Winn a real person and making sure that she screws up every once in awhile.  It's hard when you really like your characters.  Hope to hear from you again.**

**Alej**** – nope, no clues.  You know I like to keep you all guessing.  : ) Yes, I know, I'm evil.  What can I say?**

**Kerry**

**Talabar**** – I couldn't resist, mate.  Throwing the name Kiera in was too tempting.  I know, I'm awful, but luckily I wasn't serious.  : )**

**Rustic Zebra – **for some reason I think you've reviewed before, but I may be mistaken.  Things like that happen a lot for me.  You have no idea how many times a day I unintentionally lie because I forget something.  Let me know if this was your first review, and I'll think of something for you to rock.  : )

**And that's the end of my two pages of thanks.  And that's in Times New Roman, 12pt., single spaced.  My fingers hurt.**


	18. Revelations

**Author's Note: OMg!  So sorry this took so long, but it wasn't exactly a fun chapter to write.  The bulk of this note will actually be at the end because I hope it will make more of an impact there.  Beware the POV changes.**

**I did want to mention one thing before moving on: one of my friends and I made a little deal with each other.  Johnny Depp lovers that we are, we kinda agreed to promo each other's stories.  Hers is called "More Than Eyes Alone Can See" and it's a OUATIM fic.  We've similar writing styles, so if you enjoy reading this, and you want to read about the psychopathic Agent Sands, you'll probably enjoy reading hers too.  She writes under the name 'Neon Dasies'.**

**That's it.  Read this chapter and the author's note at the end.**

**Author's thanks also at the end.**

********************************************************************

Meeting Gandolfi's eyes, Winn went into an immediate state of panic.  The look of triumph was too pronounced, the satisfaction too obvious.  In what had to be the worst blunder she had made since coming aboard, had she given away everything?  Had she lost the only secret worth keeping?  Or was he only reacting to her grandmother's maiden name?  The Mussolinis had been powerful in Italian merchant circles.  Winn had risked that he had know the name and might feel some sympathy for her for her grandmother's sake, but perhaps that had been a miscalculation.  If only the room would stay still and allow her to focus her mind.  At least her stomach felt better now that it was empty.

   "I can see you are not well, sigorina.  Perhaps it would be best if someone were to escort you back to your cabin so you can rest.  I see now that the matter between us can be delayed until you are fully conscious of what is happening."

   The woman nodded mutely, seemingly struck dumb in either mortification or horror of what she had just revealed.  Gandolfi courteously escorted her to the still open door, all the while rejoicing internally.  The memory of his son was finally going to be laid to rest, Ignazio's own pain was going to be allowed an outlet.

   Motioning to the man who was positioned outside the door, Gandolfi released his prisoner into the other man's custody.  "Take signora Morgan to her cabin."  Morgan went with the man with a surprising amount of compliance.  Perhaps she thought that since she hadn't been harmed as of yet, that this extremely temporary state of affairs would persist.  No matter.  All that did matter was that she kept making things easier for him.  First by coming, secondly for already being pregnant, and lastly, by being so blessedly complacent.

   Gandolfi watched as the woman was led away, waiting until she was out of sight before leaving the cabin himself.  As he passed over the threshold, he snapped at an approaching crewman, "Clean up this mess."  Knowing that the order would be obeyed, he continued up to the main deck.

   Unceremoniously, he approached the helm where his captain stood, keeping watch over the crew, giving the occasional order.  The man noticed as his superior came above decks, and he promptly snapped to attention.  While he enjoyed his position working under Gandolfi, and he respected him on some level, he by no means wanted to get on the other man's bad side.  "Signor Gandolfi.  Have you a new heading, sir?"

   "Yes, Captain Sinclair."  Gandolfi conducted his own survey of the deck with a practiced eye.  "I wish to know if you are still aware of the whereabouts of that new English galleon you were talking about earlier."

   "Aye, Signor.  They should be sailing west from the Lesser Antilles, a little less than a day behind us."  Sinclair hadn't questioned why his employer asked him to find out the courses of the navy ships in the area several months ago.  He had just done it, knowing that it had something to do with the pirates they now had aboard.  It was enough to know that the information was most likely going to be used against the vermin in some way.  Pirates were a scourge, a threat against the lives of law-abiding citizens.  If he could help rid the world of one or two, that was enough reason to motivate him.

   "If we slowed our speed by half, do you think they would be able to catch up with us by midmorning tomorrow?"

   Sinclair took time to think, then nodded affirmatively.  "If I may ask why you wish to meet up with them, Signor?"

   Gandolfi gave a cold smile.  "I believe that they may be interested in one of our passengers.  Give the orders to slow to half speed.  I wish to give our passengers the option of leaving as soon as possible."

_Oh Lord, what have I done? Winn thought as she stared into Gandolfi's eyes.  Despite their rich color, they were cold; a shade of triumph hidden behind a veneer of polite concern.  His eyes chilled her to the bone, made her want to cover the place where her child grew with her hands in a protective gesture.  She forced herself to stand still, however – forced herself to pretend that she didn't know what she had just given away._

   She nodded silently as Gandolfi asked if she would like to rest, felt her skin crawl as he took her by the arm and ushered her to the door.  With impassive eyes she looked at the man who was to escort her back to the cabin she shared with Jack, and hardly felt it as he took her arm in a grip that bordered on bruising.

   The walk back to the cabin was almost surreal.  Winn heard the man's muttered Italian curses against pirates in general and her in particular, but the words twisted in her mind before disappearing like fish into the depths of her consciousness.  The world seemed to tilt and waver beneath her feet as if she had suddenly lost her sea-legs and all she could see was a blurred parade of images running past her eyes.  Distantly she realized that she was most likely going into shock, but she couldn't work up the energy to care.  All she could think about was the look in Gandolfi's eyes as he had looked up from his survey of her pregnant form.  The ice of it was setting up a permanent home beneath her breastbone, making it hard to breathe.

   _No.  That's not good.  I can't fall apart now.  I need to have my wits about me right now._  Maybe if she weren't so cold, thinking would be a tad bit easier.  And it would help if she could get a decent lungful of air instead of depending on shallow pants to keep her head clear.

   Her thoughts were interrupted when she was jerked to an abrupt halt.  The flow of images before her eyes solidified and revealed itself to be a door.  Winn watched as the guard at her side reached out an arm and unlocked the wooden barrier before giving her a rough shove into the room.  _At least he didn't insult me, she thought as she stumbled and struggled to stay standing.  But just as she regained her balance, another wave of nausea swamped her, bringing her to her knees as she fought against the urge to throw up again._

   Slowly Winn became aware that some was talking to her, trying to get her on her feet.  "No.  Don't move me.  Don't touch me," she moaned before clamping her mouth shut again.

   _What have I done?_

"Winnie, love, what's wrong?  C'mon, talk to me love.  It's just you and 'ole Jack now.  It's safe."  Jack, in a culmination of all his worries and fears, could do nothing as Winn knelt on the floor, huddled protectively over her stomach.  It had been bad enough to see her come in tripping over her own feet.  Winn might be many things, but clumsy wasn't one of them.  He tried again to grab her by the shoulders, but she resisted, shying away from his touch.  What was wrong with her?

   Managing to get hold of one of her hands, he was taken aback at just how cold it was.  _Shock?  What caused her to go into shock?_  Numerous possibilities entered his head, but he pushed them out.  If he dwelt on what might be wrong with her without evidence, he'd lose his mind.  He'd start whimpering like the dog at his side.

   Ignoring her feeble protests and moans, Jack carefully scooped her up into his arms, taking care not to jostle her.  "Shh, love.  It'll be better.  Shh."  Jack was unpleasantly surprised to find that although Winn was nearly five months pregnant, she weighed little more than she usually did.  Winn might be a stick of a woman, a feather compared to some he'd met, but this couldn't be normal.  Jack didn't know a whole lot about pregnant women, but he didn't think this was healthy.

   Making sure that each step was free of Pige before setting his foot down, Jack made his way over to the bed.  Gently, he laid Winn down on the bunk where she turned over onto her side, still grasping her stomach.  Sitting at her side, he brushed the hair out of her eyes; her face was white.  Laying a hand on her forehead, Jack noticed how clammy her skin was.  _What else – _he stopped himself from finishing the thought, not wanting to jinx anything.  _Just concentrate on Winn right now and finding out what's wrong with her._

   "Okay love, you're going to have to talk to me here."  No response.  "It'd help if you opened your eyes, love."  Had her head been injured?  "Winnie, I'd really appreciate it if you'd listen to me right now."  No sign that she'd heard him.  _Okay Winnie, you've got to give me something to work with here._

   Deciding to check for broken bones or other evidence of mistreatment, Jack removed Winn's boots and then slid his hands up her legs from ankle to hip.  Next he checked her arms, and then her back, and lastly her neck.  He found no bruises, no broken bones, no suspicious swellings.  _Maybe her head really was injured.  Head injuries were notoriously dangerous because of their uncertain nature.  Sometimes a bump on the head was merely that, and other times it would turn men into nothing more than empty shells.  Apprehensively, Jack ran his fingers through Winn's hair, but found no lumps to his great relief.  __If she's uninjured, what's got her so overset? he wondered an instant before the placement of her hands impacted his conscious._

   "Winn?  Is there something wrong with the baby?"

   A response, finally.  Winn's eyes snapped open as her fingers dug into her sides.  Her head started shaking in violent denial, as if she were trying to convince herself that all was well.  'Sblood, she was starting to fall apart in front of him.  "Focus, Winnie.  Focus on me."  Her head kept tossing wildly.  Needing to calm her, Jack grabbed her chin in a stern hold – a move he hadn't needed to use in years.

   Finding that she could no longer move her head, Winn's eyes slowly came into focus somewhere over Jack's shoulder.  For several seconds they moved restlessly around the room as if she were trying to remember where she was.  Eventually they came to rest on his shoulder, and her lips moved as if she were speaking in a language that he couldn't hear.  He watched as her gaze moved from his shoulder to his chest, from his chest to his neck, and from his neck to his face.  "Jack?"  She sounded confused, as if she was having difficulty recognizing him.  True, his beard had taken over most of his face, but he was wearing his usual clothes and his hair was still adorned in the same way it always was.

   As she stared at him, took in the familiarity of his form, her breath evened out and lost its shallowness.  Jack felt the pulse at the base of her jaw slow to a normal rate, no longer racing a furious tattoo against his thumb.  He relaxed as Winn seemed to come to herself, the distance and confusion leaving her eyes to be replaced with the same expression in a child's eyes when it realized it was lost.  The emotion in them still bothered him, but at least he could comfort fear.  "What is it, love?  What's wrong?"

   "I'm . . . I'm cold."  Her voice was weak and trailed off pathetically.

   _Fine._  Jack knew there was more bothering her than her physical comfort at the moment, but he could wait a bit longer to figure out what she was suffering from.  Reaching to the end of the bed, Jack grabbed the blanket that lay folded there and draped it over Winn's huddled form.  Tucking it in around her, Jack tried to form a question that would spur Winn into giving the answers he wanted from her.

   It turned out he didn't needn't have bothered.  As the minutes went by in silence, Winn's shivers became more and more sporadic until finally they ceased altogether and she whispered, "I didn't want to."

   "Didn't want to do what?"

   "I didn't want to.  I knew that it would give me away, but I didn't have a choice.  I had to."  Her voice was still weak and it was regaining it's semi-confused tone.  As if something had happened that Winn couldn't bear to think about.

   Jack felt his spine shiver as it was encased in a layer of ice.  _No.  He wouldn't.  "Winn, what did you have to do that you didn't want to?"  __Please, tell me he didn't force you.  Because if he did, I'm about to get myself killed._

   "I had . . . I had to eat.  I shouldn't have, not when . . . when the eggs were already turning my stomach.  But I didn't  . . . I didn't have a choice."

   Jack felt the ice melt, felt the cold temper that had gripped him back away for the time being.  All that had happened was that she had eaten something.  But why was she so upset about that?  Women in her delicate condition needed to eat, and eat a lot.  There had to be something he was missing.  _Poison in the food?_ he wondered.  But that couldn't be right.  If Winn had been poisoned, she wouldn't be nearly as coherent as she was and she would be in a great deal more pain.  Any poison that was going to kill a person usually did it outright, not over a long period of time.  "What's wrong with having to eat, love?  You're pregnant.  That's something you should do often."

   Winn laughed dryly.  "Yes, I am pregnant.  What makes you think that pregnant women can keep food down any length of time – especially in the mornings?"

   "So you threw up."

   Winn nodded, her eyes once again focusing on something he couldn't see.  She bit her bottom lip, and Jack saw a tremor shake the length of her body.  Then slowly, in a voice that was barely even a whisper, she said, "He knows."

He knew.  He knew that he had been given a divine task like so many others before him to rid the world of evil.  What more evidence did he need?  How big did the writing on the wall have to be before he paid it mind?

   Gandolfi had thought that he'd have to keep his prisoners confined for months before the she-devil became pregnant.  But no.  She had walked willingly into his hands already breeding.  How could that be coincidence?  No, there was something else at work here.

   The aged merchant sat in his cabin, a glass of fine Madeira in his hand as he went over his plans one last time.  Everything was coming together as smoothly as the alcohol in his hand – his vision was on the verge of being realized.  The pain and planning of the past eleven years was going to bear fruit. 

   When that harlot had killed his son, she had taken the only child of his first wife – a woman he had loved more than he had ever thought was possible.  Though theirs was an arranged marriage, it had been an unwitting love match as well.  When the woman had died in childbirth, Tristan had been the only piece of her he had left.  And then, less than two decades later, his son had been ripped from him halfway around the world.  By the hand of a woman who was no better than she ought to be.

   Gandolfi raised the glass to his lips and savored the slight burn as it traveled down his throat.  He didn't think he was being unjust or overly revengeful.  And eye for an eye.  He had suffered pain and he was going to inflict not a measure more of that pain back on the woman.  He didn't want her to die – that would thwart that entire principle that his plan was constructed around.  He wanted her to live – wanted her to live with the pain that came from losing both the one person in the world that you cared about and the pain of losing the one person that was the physical evidence of that love.  He had suffered it and survived – she would too.  It's just her illegitimate family that wouldn't.

   This time tomorrow.  This time tomorrow she would know what she had inflicted upon him and she would repent and beg for the pain to stop, as he had.  And she would learn what he had learned . . . some wounds never heal, some pain never ends.

"What do you mean, 'he knows'?  What does he know, love?"  Jack was trying to be gentle, but he needed answers from Winn right now, not hysteria.

   The question seemed to have been the right one to get her to think instead of feel.  He could feel her body freeze and could see the wheels of reason turning in her mind.  Now that she was able to listen and understand what was being asked of her, he felt comfortable asking a more complicated question.  "What happened after you left here, Winnie?"  

   Slowly she took in a deep breath and then just as slowly let it out.  After repeating the calming motion several times, she sat up and leaned against the wall.  Slowly, she began to talk.  "I was taken to another cabin on this deck.  It was small, as if it were intended to be a storage closet.  Breakfast was set out on a table.  The smell of the eggs triggered the morning sickness, but it was manageable.  Gandolfi was there waiting for me.  He asked me to sit, then served us both from the same dishes.  I waited for him to eat first before I started to eat.  I didn't want to, but it would have looked suspicious if I didn't.  I blamed my hesitation on a sore jaw which led into a philosophical discussion over why women stay with men.  When that was done, he asked where I got my name.  I swear he was indirectly making slurs against my character."

   "Why do you say that?"

   "First he asked if I had chosen the name Morgan because of Morgan le Fay, who was not a nice woman according to literature.  I didn't like the way he was implying that I found a witch and possible murderess as my role-model.  But I denied that and then he went onto another infamous Morgan – Grandfather.  He was just repeating gossip and slander that's been repeated for decades, but I couldn't listen to it again for some reason.  So I . . . disabused him of his impressions . . . ."

   "What does that mean?"  Winn didn't like the carefully controlled tone in Jack's voice.  She knew that tone.  It meant that he was angry but doing his best to hide it.

   "It means that I . . . I . . . ."  Winn took a deep breath and rushed through what she was going to say.  "I dropped Grandmama's maiden name hoping that he had at least heard of her, and I implied that she and Grandfather had not only undergone the tradition pirate ceremony, but that they were married by a cleric of the church some year or so later.  And then I said that I was the last of the line.  ButIdidn'thaveachoiceinthat."

   "Winn – "

   "No!  Please listen before you get mad.  I had to say that!  My brothers and I long ago decided that we would, if faced with a situation that endanger the life of Grandfather or another member of the family, that we would claim to be the last of the line.  I couldn't go back on word, Jack.  I couldn't endanger the lives of my brothers, sisters, or my nieces and nephews.  Not to mention Grandfather."

   "But you'll endanger your own life!?" Jack hissed heatedly, trying to keep his temper in check.

   "My life was . . . is . . . already in danger, Jack.  What's the worse that could happen?  Nothing that couldn't have happened already.  But it was possible that he might have changed his mind on behalf of Grandmama."

   "Did he?"

   "I don't know.  Right after I told him that, I threw up.  And after that," she shook her head.  "I don't know what happened.  The look in his eyes just sent me into a panic."

   "What kind of look?"

   Winn closed her eyes and was silent for a moment, recalling the look so she could try to determine what about his eyes had sent her into a panic.  "It was a look of . . . greed.  Triumph.  Joy?"  She opened her eyes.  "I . . . don't . . . know," she stressed.  "All I know is that his gaze . . . it felt like danger.  All of a sudden I just lost it.  Lost all control of my mind and body and was trapped totally within the grasp of my emotions."  Shaking her head, she commented, "I'll be so glad when I've had this baby and mind returns to normal.  I'm so sick of having to combat waves of fear, and tears, and irrational anger before I can do anything."

   "Yeah, well, it's not so much fun for the rest of us either."  Winn smacked Jack on the arm, but didn't say anything else.  They both knew that the die was cast and now all they could do was wait for Gandolfi's next move.

They were running out of time.  Quickly.  Jack hated his state of helplessness, but he would gladly surrender to it forever if it meant getting Winn out of here.  _Well, maybe not gladly,_ he thought as the pair and their guard dog watched the men bring in their evening meal.  _But I would do it.  If only there was some way to get Gandolfi to transfer his attention from Winn to me.  He knew Winn would protest the idea, but he didn't care.  They were running not only out of time, but out choices as well.  "Hungry?"_

   Winn shrugged a shoulder.  "I think that depends on what they brought."

   Ever the gentleman – well, almost always – Jack got up from the bunk and lifted the covers from the dishes.

   "Oh lord, cover that fast."

   Jack looked over his shoulder.  "What?"  Looking back down at the tray he said, "I thought you liked fish stew."

   "I may like it, but my stomach wants nothing to do with it.  _Please put the cover back on."  She sighed in relief as he did.  "Is there anything that isn't meat?"_

   "Umm . . . cheese, apples, bread, water, and tea.  Will you eat any of that?"

   "An apple and cheese sounds good, and some tea.  What kind of bread is it?"

   "Wormless."

   Winn rolled her eyes.  "I assumed that."  She sighed.  "Can I have a piece?  A small one?"

   "No."  Instead of trying to divvy the food up, Jack simply brought the entire tray over, sans stew.

   As Winn took a sip of her tea, she made a face and asked, "Is there any sugar?"

   Jack opened a paper envelope to find a small pile of sugar cubes.  "Yeah.  Why?"

   "This tea is bitter.  Or perhaps it's just strong.  I was never much of a tea drinker before, so it's hard to tell."  Quickly Winn picked up two of the cubes and dropped them into the cup, swirling it as the sugar dissolved.

The next morning came much to early in Winn's opinion.  With the sun came some kind of heightened awareness – she couldn't say why, but she had a feeling that something was going to happen today.  _That or I'm severely sleep deprived.  She wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.  Along with the insomnia that Cat swore was a symptom of pregnancy, Winn had suffered from indigestion and nausea all night long.  Jack was worried about her, and she would have been inclined to agree with him if she hadn't been suffering from mild versions of the maladies for the past month or so.  _

   **_But they've never been this overwhelming before._**

**_So things are getting worse.  Maybe the state of my nerves has something to do with it._**

_   **And the shaky hands?**_

**_Exhaustion?_**

   Winn was interrupted from her thoughts when the door to the cabin swung open.  Two men stood in the doorway, one with a chain.  He held it out and said, "Get that beast under control."  Winn glanced at Jack and shook her head.  Digging into her pocket, she pulled out the leather leash she almost always had with her.  She stepped away from the way, but a sudden wave of dizziness overcame her before she went more than two steps.  Throwing herself back, she placed a hand to her forehead, cursing the ill-timed weakness.  She didn't need to act like a delicate pregnant woman right now.

   Trying to hide his concern, Jack took the leash from her limp hand.  He didn't like the way that she was suddenly taking deep breaths, especially since they didn't seem to be doing her much good.  "Com'ere, beast."  Pige reluctantly did as she was ordered, letting Jack attach the leash to her collar.  Only when the dog was restrained, did the men enter the room.

   Roughly they took the two pirates by the arm and propelled them out of the room.  Jack considered struggling, but decided against it.  There was too much risk to Winn at the moment.  Maybe if one of the men would sheath their weapon he would consider it.

   The sun was bright, and both captives winced as the morning sun hit their eyes.  The light that came in from the portholes was a poor imitation of full strength sunlight.  Winn tried to halt her forward progress, dizzy, laboring to breathe, and now half blind, but she was pulled forward unceremoniously.  She heard Pige growling low in her throat somewhere behind her, and she wished she had the dog at her side to help steady her.  Why weren't the black spots blurring her vision fading?  They should be by now.

   The next thing she became aware of was she was standing near the rail of the ship and there was a row boat that looked as if it were prepared to be lowered nearby.  _What?  Are they letting us go?  Oh no, not the back._  Her lower back was setting up a slow throb.  _What are you doing in there? she asked her unborn child.  _This isn't the time to make mama miserable.  If you could just wait another or hour or so, that might be a more opportune time.__

   Jack, standing an arms-length from Winn, didn't like how sweat was starting to bead her pale face or how her eyes were staring blankly in front of her.  He needed her to be conscious of what was going on, of what was happening.

   "Signora Morgan.  You don't look as if you feel well."  Gandolfi emerged from his cabin, as impeccably dressed as ever, a self-satisfied look on his face.  "Perhaps freedom will agree with you better than you supper did last night."

   Jack's eyes widened as he realized what was wrong with his wife.  Lunging forward in order to kill Gandolfi as best he could, he was stopped by three men – two catching hold of his arms, one getting an arm around his neck, choking off the curses that had started to flow from his mouth.  Winn blindly turned her head in his direction at the sound of the commotion, by Gandolfi soon had her attention again.

   "Why?"  The word came out breathlessly as Winn laid a hand on the rail behind her to help her keep her feet.  "Why use . . . such a slow acting . . . poison?"  The words barely made themselves understandable through her heavy breaths.

   "Oh, rest assured, I didn't poison you."  
   "Certainly . . . feels like it."

   "You're probably right.  But I doubt you managed to ingest enough to kill you.  I want you to live a long and healthy life."  He checked the horizon, then looked back at the woman before him.  "Castor bean doesn't usually kill unless you manage to eat an entire pod, and I didn't use that much."

   Jack watched helplessly as Winn started shaking her head in disbelief.  "Why?  Even the Crown . . . flinches at  . . . executing a woman . . . if she's with child. . . .  They believe . . . that the child . . . is an innocent."

   Gandolfi reached an arm out and trailed the backs of his fingers down Winn's face.  She flinched away and nearly fell as a consequence.  Gandolfi smiles and asked in a low voice, "How can the child of a pirate and a heartless trollop be innocent?"  Winn tried to retort, but lacked the breath to do so.  "You see, cara, when you killed my son, you robbed me of the one thing on this earth I treasured – the only child of a woman I loved.  Now, naturally I remarried, but I never cared about the woman, and her children are nothing compared to the child I lost.  The pain you created was immeasurable."

   "An . . . accident."  Winn was aware that the rustling of clothes and the muttered curses she was hearing was the result of Jack's struggles to free himself from Gandolfi's men.

   "You accidentally shot my son at point blank range?"  The merchant snorted.  "Excuse me if I don't believe you, sigorina."

   "Why . . . take Jack . . . if you wanted . . . me?"  Winn had to keep talking, had to keep her mind off the darkness that threatened to overtake it.

   "Because, unless you enjoy being raped, he was the most likely candidate to impregnate you."  Gandolfi's face lost all traces of humor.  "Unless you haven't figured it out yet, signora Morgan, it wasn't you I wanted.  It was you lover and your child.  You left me without progeny or the physical reminder of my late wife.  I only thought it fair that you experience the same thing."

   The crunch of bone and an enraged yell robbed Winn and Gandolfi of their attention.  Jack had smashed his head back into the nose of the man behind him.  "Gandolfi, you coldhearted ba– "  A bone-chilling scream interrupted him.  He turned his head just in time to see Winn drop to the deck, one hand still holding the rail, the other clutching her abdomen.

   Gandolfi saw the agony in the other man's eyes, and gestured for his men to let the pirate go, his hand going to the butt of his pistol incase the man didn't do as he expected.  And indeed, Jack did waver for a split second between attacking the merchant and going to his wife, but when Winn let out a tormented moan, he made his decision and dropped to his knees beside his wife.  "What's wrong, love?"

   "Jack . . . the baby . . . castor bean . . . midwives use it . . . to induce . . . or hurry along . . . a woman's . . . labor . . . dangerous though . . . can also be used . . . to abort . . . a pregnancy."

   "Ah, so the pirate maiden is a scholar after all."  Gandolfi pointed his pistol at Winn as Jack prepared to surge to his feet.  "I think you may want to wait a moment, Captain, and listen to the offer I have for you."  Jack was glaring daggers at the man, but he stayed silent.  "The _History's Claim doesn't have a doctor onboard, so if you want to get your slattern to one, you'll have to wait for the British naval ship coming this way.  Of course, as soon as they recognize you, it'll be the brig and the gallows in short order.  But seeing as there is a small island off the starboard bow, you could easily row your way there and escape capture.  It's up to you.  Either way, I will have you both off my ship before the sun moves a degree higher in the sky."_

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**A/N 2: okay, that was incredibly hard for me to write, perhaps more so than it was for you all to read.  _Please have faith in me right now!  Don't stop reading, have faith that I will be able to make things work out for the good of all no matter how grim things may get or seem at the time being.  I know that you are all too smart to jump to conclusions, and that you (hopefully) trust me as a storyteller.  I will try to get an update up by Thursday at the earliest and Friday at the latest to relieve some of the pressure.  Again, just trust me on this one._**

**Still, I'd love to hear what you're all thinking right now, even if you are mad at me.  I can take the anger because I know where I'm going with this.**

**Author's Thanks:** thanks this time around go to – 

**Rustic Zebra**

**pirate-miss**

**VagrantCandy******

**KawaiiRyu******

**madlilmonkey**** – hey!  New reviewer!  You can rock my socks . . . my banana-eating monkey socks that is.  : )**

**bobo3**** and Kendra – I may very well take Kendra up on her offer further down the road.  Tell her to be on standby for somewhere around chapter 22.**

**SprklingSatine******

**Tierra**

**Talabar******

**EricaDawn******

**Clover the Sea-Beast – **glad to hear that you're finally feeling better.  : )

**KamikazeCreamPuff**** – again, thanks for taking the time to raise those concerns.  I love it when people give me structured feedback on how to make things about my fic better.**

**Eledhwen******

**Alej******

**BeBe******

**Ursula – **new reviewer number two!  You can rock the glass fish I have sitting on my bookcase.  *nods*  (Sorry, I'm running out of ideas for people to rock. . . but I really appreciate you all the same.)  How's Oregon?  Wet, cold, and green.  In fact, I think my car is growing a healthy layer of algae even as we speak.  Thanks for the tip about where my laudanum was disappearing to.  I'm not done with that yet.

**TaraRose******

**Mooney**

**A big thanks to all who sent historical information in to me.  Keeping things timeline perfect isn't really a big goal of mine here, but I do like to keep at least somewhat instep with the life and times of those I write about.  I'm all about believability, just not perfection.  ; )  I swear that I have the most involved and concerned reviewers on this site.**


	19. Priorities

**Author's Note: I know that this chapter is a bit shorter than some of the rest, but I wanted to get it out – help relieve some of the tension that the last chapter created.  Be looking for the next installment anywhere between tomorrow night and Tuesday night.**

**Sue to my lack of time at the moment, author's thanks will appear in the next chapter, but thank you to all who reviewed for chapter fourteen.**

**Here follows the story:**

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She thought the pain was going to rip her apart.  Winn lost track of what was going on around her when she lost interest.  She couldn't see, she couldn't hear above the blood rushing in her ears, and she was having trouble breathing.  For all she knew she was about to be killed, and she didn't care – all that mattered was keeping her child safe.  

   She felt her body being moved, and she bit back the screams of pain this brought to her lips.  Her body wanted to jerk and dance on its own, but she focused what was left of her energy on staying curled around the life growing inside her.  She heard a faint and indistinct voice talking into her ear, but all she could understand was her own mind screaming denials that she couldn't lose this child.

   Her husband, where was her husband?  "Jack . . . ."  Had she said anything out loud, or had she merely thought her husband's name?

   That indistinct voice rang in her ears, and this time a pair of arms tightened around her, lending her the strength to keep the convulsions contained.  A pair of lips grazed her hairline – Winn decided that it was Jack holding her, although she couldn't be certain.  Why was everything bobbing?  Wasn't she having a hard enough time keeping her stomach in one place without this added complication.  _Going to lose it.  Leaning forward she emptied what was left of her stomach contents overboard.  Catching her breath, she moaned and started dry heaving over the side from the pain.  _Not the baby.  Not the baby_, the refrain took up precedence in her mind._

Jack, as much as he would like to let go of Winn and stab Gandolfi directly in the chest with the knife she had smuggled aboard, didn't let go of his wife as they were ushered into the waiting dinghy.  At the moment concern for her outweighed any desire to kill the old merchant, albeit not by much.

   "Jack . . . ."  He barely heard the gasp his name became on his wife's lips, his mind too caught up in what was happening.  The small gasp had to fight its way to the front of his attention, and when it did, Jack tightened his arms around Winn, unsure if the pressure was helping or hurting her.  Winn leaned into his embrace, bracing her back against his chest and resting her head on his shoulder as she struggled with the pain the poison was causing.  Comforted by the fact that she wasn't fighting against him, Jack pressed his lips against her hairline as he kept one eye on Pige who was huddled in the bows stern of the small craft as she had been taught and the other on the ship and Gandolfi who was standing at the rail.

   "I suggest you make up you mind as to what your next action is, Captain Sparrow.  As you can see, you'll be able to reach that isle within the next hour or so if you start rowing now, and will be safely ashore before the English navy comes by.  Of course, should you decide to do that, your lover will lost her child and possibly bleed to death.  Or, you can sit there and wait for the ship that will be passing by in about two hours, and we both know what the consequences will be if you choose that."  The merchant vessel was slowly picking up speed as her sailors lowered the sails.  Winn surged forward in his arms and lost the fight against her belly again, thankfully throwing up over the side of the small boat.  Pige whined, Gandolfi smiled, and Jack felt the same ice that he'd felt the last time he'd looked into Barbossa's eyes before they'd marooned him.  He needn't worry about dying just yet – he had to live to kill Gandolfi.  Things were as simple as that.  Saluting the man with an impudent gesture and his trademark smirk, Jack focused his attention on his wife.  He had Gandolfi had both known what his choice would be – waiting for the English to come by and pick them up.  If Winn needed a doctor, he'd get her to one, no matter what the risks to himself were.

   Helping Winn sit up in the small boat once the dry heaves had abated, Jack sent up a prayer of thanks that Winn had been up part of the night doing this very thing.  Maybe she had managed to rid her body of enough of the poison to make some kind of difference.  "Winn, love, talk to me."  Her entire body was trembling, whether as a symptom of the poison or of her struggle against it, he wasn't sure.  Laying a gentle hand over her belly, he felt the short, powerful muscle contractions at work there.  A hand gripped his heart, but he fought against the fear.  He'd be of no use to Winn if he gave into the panic stalking him now.  Her own terror was enough to overwhelm them both – he didn't need to add his to the pot.  Still, it was all he could do to keep himself from moaning when he saw that Winn had bitten through her bottom lip in an effort to keep silent.  "Let it out, Winnie.  It's okay.  It's just you and me now.  You can let it out."  The head on his shoulder shook.  "Yes, you can.  It's okay, I'll hold you.  Let me help."

   " . . . can't . . . .  So sorry, Jack . . . ."

   "Shh.  It's alright."

   "No."  Winn's voice was difficult to hear over the small waves lapping against the side of the hull.  Jack lowered his head so that that his ear rested nearly against her mouth, Jack listened to what she was trying to say.  ". . . my fault . . . . Should . . . shouldn't have come . . . ."  What was that wetness sinking into his breeches?  _Tell me this boat doesn't have a bloody leak.  It suddenly struck him that if there was a leak, his rear would be wet, not his lap._

   "Don't worry about that now.  Save your strength," he murmured as he carefully shifted Winn on his lap.  He swallowed hard when he saw the small amount of blood staining his pants.  

   Winn opened her eyes as she felt herself being positioned so she could once again lean against Jack's chest, this time so her shoulder rested directly against him.  To her great relief and growing fear, the spots blocking out the majority of her vision were starting to fear, as was the burning throat she had taken as indigestion the night before.  She was glad to see again, but as these symptoms lessened, she knew the more serious ones would start to kick in.  She tensed as she felt . . . something in her belly.  _No!  I will not lose this child!_ she thought wildly before realizing that it didn't hurt.  _What?_  

   Realizing what was happening, she grabbed Jack's hand and placed it over her womb.  "Winn, what is it?  What's wrong?"  Ignoring her husband and closing her eyes against the bright blue sky, she concentrated, willing for the sensation to come again.  There, that little punch.  Her baby, it was kicking.  Hope started to combat the fear, enough to let Winn breath a bit more steadily.

   "Winn?"  Jack didn't like how quiet she was being.  Her skin was cold and clammy, her forehead and chest damp with perspiration, her breathing still labored.  The hand holding his over her belly was quickly weakening.  And most importantly, he could feel her muscles jumping under his hand.  Was this it then?  Was she dying?  "Winn?"  _God, please, don't do this._

   Hearing the trace of fear in her husband's voice, Winn tried to open her eyes and reassure him, but her eyelids were too heavy.  Settling for speaking in her breathless voice, Winn said, "No.  It's the baby.  It's kicking."  This wasn't good enough, she needed to open her eyes.  Fighting against her lids' stubborn refusal to open, hers slowly fluttered open.  "The baby's alright."  Why wasn't he looking more relieved? "What's wrong?"

   _What's wrong?_  Jack couldn't even begin to list all the things that were wrong.  "Winnie . . ."  She looked so peaceful at the moment, but the wig was going to have to go.  It had served its purpose, helping to conceal her identity.  Now it was a hindrance.  He busied himself with removing the pins that were keeping it on her head, avoiding the question in her eyes.

   Winn let him dodge the question for the time being, too tired to press the issue.  When he finally managed to get the wig off her head, she nearly sighed in contentment, not caring that her hair was more than likely messier than a bird's nest.  Funny, it was getting harder and harder to breathe, her lungs resisting the idea that she needed oxygen.  _Why are they fighting?  Another spasm of pain came out of nowhere to make every muscle in her body cramp in agony.  She could now feel the blood that was seeping from between her clenched thighs.  _No!__

    Jack surveyed the horizon for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes.  If help didn't arrive soon, he wasn't sure Winn was going to make it.  Ever since her declaration that the baby was going to be okay, the premature contractions had been wracking her body with greater intensity and frequency.  Any words coming out of her mouth and long since stopped making any sense, a mixture of pleas, curses, and unknown mutterings in several different languages barely making it through her lips.  Each breath had become a struggle, and Jack could do nothing but sit by and watch.

   Blood stained both them and the bottom of the boat now, a grim reminder of what was happening – of what was at stake.  Jack felt torn between the hope that Winn would be able to keep the child and the hope that her agony would be stopped.  Ever since feeling the physical evidence of his child in her womb, he'd been fighting between the two.  He knew how much Winn wanted this, wanted this child that she wasn't supposed to have given life to, but he needed his wife.  If she died . . . then what he was about to do was going to be in vain.  Or perhaps not.  He wasn't sure how to face a future without Winn, and this would be one way to escape.

   "Jack . . . ."

   "What is it love?"

   "You need . . . need to start . . . rowing."  Her eyes inched open to meet his.  "Get to . . . to safety . . . .  Island."

   Jack shook his head.  "Just concentrate on keeping yourself alive, love.  Let me worry about the rest."  Raising his eyes, he once against swept his gaze over the horizon.  There.  Finally.  He'd started to think the ship was never going to show up.  Winn needed help, now.

   "Jack . . . I'll be fine."  Her words ended on a keening note, the pain becoming too much to handle again, but this time she fought to speak through it.  "I'm sorry.  I should have . . . have told you . . . before."

   "Told me what, love?"

   "That I'm sorry."

   "Sorry about what?"

   "The ones I lost."  Her hands were clinging to his, the nails biting into his calloused palms.  "I didn't mean to."  Her chest expanded laboriously as she sucked down enough air to keep talking.  "I didn't know . . . forgive me."

   Jack had no idea what she was talking about.  What did he have to forgive her for?  What had she lost and not known about?  "Of course I forgive you."  The English ship was getting closer.  "You're going to get help soon, love."

   "What?"

   "I'm going to get you to a doctor."

   Her eyes once again inched open, and met his.  The purpose, the finality . . . the good-bye she found there scared her more than the pain moving in waves across her abdomen.  Jerking her eyes from his, she looked out to sea and saw the same thing he had; an English vessel, navy by its look.  "No . . . don't . . . not for me."

   "It's too late, love.  They've already seen us."  It was true.  Jack could hear the faint shouts rising from the deck as the officers called out the course corrections needed to keep the ship from crushing the small ship.  "You need a physician, and this is the only way to get one."

   "Don't want to . . . to pay that much.  Jack . . . they'll arrest you."

   "I think they've already done that once or twice, and I've come out alright."  Gently, Jack laid Winn down on the bottom of the small craft, and then went to stand in the stern, one booted foot propped up on the ship's edge so that should they recognize him (which someone was bound to do sooner or later) they would make all due haste to get him and his wife on board.  Not that he cared to share that bit of information – it'd only get Winn in trouble.

"Captain!  There seems to be a small vessel stranded ahead of us, sir!"

   Captain Marcus Morgan turned from the conversation he was having with his superior, prepared to deal with this small abnormality.  He and his crew were just completing a trial run in the newest addition to the English navy's fleet here in the Caribbean – _HMS Redemption_.  She was truly a beautiful ship, built for speed and little else.  In her, the navy would be better able to track down the pirates and smugglers that infested these waters.  _Not that we can go after just any ships.  I know of several I would rather avoid.  Such as those belonging to his family.  And as long as the navy and his superior didn't catch on to the game he was running, all would be well._

   "Where is this ship, lieutenant?" he asked as he came to the helm.  Marcus followed the man's finger and found the small ship.  Feeling his eyes widen and his stomach drop, he pulled out the spyglass that always hung at his side.  _Speak of the devil.  For a split second, he wondered if he dare ignore the small vessel and its inhabitant, but then the dog in the stern caught his attention.  Whatever Jack was doing, he wouldn't bring Winn's dog with him.  If Pigeon was there, so was Winn, and if Jack was making himself so visible instead of having taken refuge on the small island to the north, then she was in trouble.  Cursing to himself, he called out course corrections to his crew.  It was going to more than he could do to see that Jack reached port in one piece._

   "Go to my cabin and awaken Mrs. Morgan," he ordered the cabin boy at his elbow.  The boy took off running, responding to the urgency in his captain's voice.

   "What seems to be the problem, Captain?"  Marcus turned to his superior and wished that the man was anywhere but here.  "Surely it isn't anything that your men cannot handle without the help of your wife."

   "No, sir.  But there's a woman in that boat, and in my experience, a woman is always comforted by the presence of another when boarding a ship full of strange men.  That and I have the feeling that Mrs. Morgan would have my head if I did not inform her of this distraction."  

   Marcus watched with a sinking feeling as the man he was talking to glanced at the smaller ship and then focused on the man standing proud in the bows.  "Impossible," he murmured, motioning for Marcus to hand over his spyglass.  Marcus did and hid the wince that came when his superior barked, "Sparrow!"

   "You called for me, 'Captain'?"  Marcus turned to look at his wife, hearing her gentle mockery at the formality that was required before his commanding officer.  She was pale from being sea-sick, but it had been her decision to come, and he was now infinitely glad that he had allowed her to.  If something was wrong with Winn, he could think of no one better to care for her.

   Taking his wife by the elbow, he led her some distance off as his men maneuvered the large vessel up alongside the dinghy, avoiding swamping the smaller boat with the ease of long practice.  Under the cover of their shouts he whispered, "We've just managed to find Jack and Winn in the middle of the blasted Caribbean Sea."  Grace's eyes widened.  "I suspect that something may be wrong with Winn, or Jack would have found them shelter long ago.  There's nothing I can do to protect him, not with the commodore aboard.  Maybe, once we reach Port Royal . . ." Marcus ran an impatient hand through his hair.  "Never mind.  Right now I need you to take charge of Winn, find out what's wrong."  Hearing the commodore taking charge behind them, Marcus finished quickly.  "You know that we must pretend not to know Jack."  Grace nodded speechlessly, her eyes filling with purpose.  "Alright.  Let's see what we can make of this puzzle we've been given."

Jack Sparrow cursed his luck.  Of all the navy ships to run into, he had to come across the one that was commanded by Port Royal's very own commodore.  He had suspected that he would have to face Norrington sooner or later, but he hadn't expected it to be this soon.  Just as he was about to give himself up as a dead man, Jack saw two people he hadn't expected to see, but who were much more welcome: his youngest brother-in-law and his wife.  Sagging inwardly in relief, he reinforced the self-assured smirk on his face and waited for someone to take action.

   Apparently it was above the commodore's dignity to shout down at the pirate, for Jack soon saw three armed redcoats descend in their own lifeboat, one baring the expected irons.  Truly, the commodore was much too predictable.

   "Jack Sparrow, you are under arrest!"

   Jack looked around him, pretending to see if he were surrounded or not.  "Actually, it looks as if I'm surrendering m'self, mates."  Winn groaned, and Jack fought the need to kneel down by her side.  "I'm sure the iron aren't necessary.  I just wanted to drop off the little lady and then I'll be on my way."  _Military recruits must get dumber by the season,_ he thought as the men looked up to see what the commodore had made of this little speech.  "I don't think the gent up there is going to change his mind when it comes to making me your enforced guest.  I would appreciate it, however, if you would relieve me of this moaning bundle?"  He hoped that Winn couldn't hear what he was saying, or he was going to get an earful at any moment, which would not be a good thing.

   "What are you louts waiting for?  Get that pirate under control, then get that poor woman up here so I can look after her."  _Praise all gods that be for Grace._  The men jumped to do her bidding.

   It was a heart-wrenching trip for Jack, climbing up the side of the ship as he watched his restless wife be hauled up in the soldier's launch.  More than anything he wanted to tell them to be more gentle, but couldn't.  The only piece of luck that came his way was that Pige had decided that these men were here to help and she didn't attack.

   Standing on the deck of the ship, keeping a careful eye on Winn as Norrington's, or perhaps Marcus' men fitted him with shackles, it was impossible for him to miss the expressions on his in-law's faces or that of the men around them.  Winn was a sight to disturb anyone with her lower half close to being covered in blood, her sightlessly staring eyes, wild hair, and incoherent mumbles.  Every once in awhile, she would let out an agonized moan and Jack's hair would stand on end in fear that he'd gotten her to help too late.  _Com'on Winnie, just keep holding on, love.  Just a little bit longer, that's all I ask._

   Grace was holding a whispered conference with Marcus, apparently arguing with him over something.  Jack wanted to tell her to keep her mouth shut and focus on Winn, but when Grace's glance cut to him, he realized that she must need more information.

   "Captain Sparrow –"

   "I'm afraid that _Mister Sparrow doesn't have time to answer any questions, Mrs. Morgan.  In fact, I while I believe that he could explain _in detail_ what is wrong with the young lady, I think it would be best if we kept him away from her."_

   "Commodore!  If I'm to help this woman I need more information about what is wrong with her.  Sparrow is the only one who can help me with that."

   Winn, inopportunely, chose that moment to speak up.  "Jack . . . Jack, no . . . don't.  I can't . . . . the baby . . ."

   Stunned silence fell upon the deck, Marcus and Grace staring first at Winn with wide, unbelieving eyes, and then at Jack.  He tried to step forward, forgetting the masquerade he had to hold up, when Norrington stepped between he and his wife.

   "Well, there you go.  The woman has admitting of her own will that she wants nothing to do with this ruffian.  If fact, it sounds as if she would be more likely to implicate him as the cause for her current condition."

  "I resent that implication.  I'm a gentleman of fortune," Jack said, hiding his fear for his wife and child.  If only this overdressed buffoon would get out of his way.

  "Yes," Norrington drawled.  "Unfortunately for you, you luck had never been good or abundant.  And now it's finally run out."  He nodded to two men, who grabbed Jack by the arms, ready to drag him down to the brig.

   "Wait."  Marcus' voice rang across the deck with authority.  "Whether or not this man is responsible is not the issue at the moment.  What's at stake is this woman's life and her survival is based on information, which this man has.  By all means, keep him under lock and guard, but let him give my wife the answers she needs to help her."  The men didn't budge from their places and the commodore didn't blink.  "Sir, I know that you are my commander, but this is my ship.  Until you choose to relieve me of command, I believe I am allowed to make such a decision."

   "Very well.  Men, take the woman –"

   "That won't be necessary.  I'll take her myself, sir."  With all the gentleness that Jack himself would have used, Marcus picked his sister up from the deck and carried her to his cabin, Grace and Jack following close behind.

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**Author's Note 2:  if you're looking for something else to read, **check out my new fic 'One Shot'** – it's going to be a collection of short pieces that have absolutely nothing to do with anything else, but I hope they're enjoyable.  Also, there's the fic ****'More Than Eyes Alone Can See' by my friend Neon Daisies in the OUATIM universe.**


	20. Consequences

**Author's Note: sorry!  I'm sorry for leaving the suspense go for this long, but I have a good excuse.  Finals, studying for finals, and bemoaning the lack of my PotC DVD.  I won't get it until my birthday, and until then, I want to hear nothing more about it.  I can wait 16 more days!  I have willpower!  I am not obsessed.  (Yeah right.)  **

**Also, this was hard to write, and I'm glad I'm almost done with this phase of things.  It's hard to be serious, intense, and suspenseful when you're listening to Christmas music.  "Holly, Jolly, Christmas" just doesn't go with the dark edgyness I'm going for.  Took me awhile to get into the right mindset to write this.**

**Winn's POV of what's going on is told in flashbacks.  It's supposed to be disjointed and unrelated to the rest of the chapter.  She's delirious.  Sorry if that causes anyone confusion.**

**Anyway, enjoy this, and I will do my best to get another chapter out within the next four/five days.**

**Author Thanks at the end.**

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Winn was laid moaning and thrashing on the bunk.  His guards kept Jack from going to her, their rough hands reminding him of the role he was supposed to be playing.  It was hard to sink into even such a carefully crafted persona as "Captain Jack Sparrow" when one of the two most important things in his life was suffering to such a degree, but Jack forced himself to do so.  "Careful there, mate.  If you're not a wee bit more gentle there, you'll hurt my delicate feelin's."

   The guard cuffed him on the side of the head for his trouble.  "Shut your mouth you blackhearted son of a bi –"

   "Johnson!  Are you a soldier or a school-boy?"  Marcus turned from the bed, reluctantly turning his sister over to his wife to deal with his men and his brother-in-law.  He couldn't remember ever seeing Winn in such bad shape.  Out of all the Morgan grandchildren, she seemed to be the most resilient, the most indestructible.  And her husband was in no better condition; while he appeared to be the carefree captain, there was to much control infusing his body and his eyes were haunted.  "Gentlemen, I believe both my wife and her patient would be more comfortable if you left us."

   "But Captain, our orders are to –"

   "Your orders are what I decide they are.  Unless you want to find yourselves cleaning the bilges until we reach port, I suggest you keep that in mind."

   "But Sparrow, sir –"  The man's partner bumped Jack into him, making the man shut his mouth.

   Marcus looked appraisingly at Jack, taking in his appearance with level eyes.  "If I'm not mistaken, Mister Sparrow has not only been clapped in irons, but he's had all his weapons confiscated.  It I cannot maintain order under these circumstances, then I must have gained my rank by default."  The two redcoats were looking more and more shamefaced by the moment.  "Now, if you are through making objections, I would appreciate it if you would position yourselves outside my cabin to await further instructions at me pleasure."  The men hesitated.  _"Dismissed."_

  Once the two guards had left and the door was safely shut, Marcus relaxed and came over and clapped Jack on the shoulder, unsure of what other sign of sympathy would be appropriate under the circumstances.  "I'll assume that you're far happier to see us than we are to see you."

   "It's a long story, Marcus.  One best told at another time.  Can anythin' be done for Winn?"  Jack had let his pretense fall as soon as his guards had left, and now he looked more helpless than Marcus could ever remember seeing him.  "Grace?"

   The woman looked up from her work, uncertainty and rage writ large on her face.  "What happened?!"

   Jack shook his head, clearly trying to organize his thoughts.  "She was fed castor bean." His hands clenched as Winn once again cried out and Grace's face paled.

   "Castor bean," she whispered.  "Marcus, get me water or milk.  We need to dilute whatever may be left in her stomach."  Marcus went to the door and exchanged words with one of the men there.  "Jack, I need to know how long she's been displaying symptoms."

   "Hard to tell.  It could have stated as early as last night.  She was up half the night emptying her stomach and sufferin' from indigestion.  But she said that it was the babe makin' her sick."

   Grace cursed, startling Jack.  "What business does Freddy have putting herself in a position where she could get poisoned while pregnant?"

   " . . . jack . . . ."  The woman on the bed interrupted them, freeing Grace from her anger for the time being and Jack from having to answer such a complicated question.

   "Is she going to be alright?"  Jack edged towards the bed as Winn's body once again tensed in pain.  Her moans and her efforts to shield herself from the pain were growing weaker.  It was an excruciating thing to watch, the lack of strength in his wife's body.  Winn had always been so strong, and when she had let herself be weak, he had been there at her side, supporting her.  But now, this time, all he could do was step back and let others care for her.****

   Grace saw his struggle in his eyes, and she felt sorry for the man.  Here he was, practically surrendering himself to the British when he knew they wanted his head, and it appeared at the moment that it had been in vain.  Shaking her head, she simply said, "I don't know, Jack."  Rubbing her brow, she asked, "You said she had been up most of the night throwing up?"  Jack nodded.  "What other symptoms has she been displaying?  Anything out of the ordinary."

   "Umm . . ."  Jack took a deep breath to compose his rampant emotions while Grace stripped Winn of her outer garments, leaving her only in her shift.  "She seemed disoriented and she was having trouble focusing her eyes.  And breathing hasn't been a gift either – she's been fighting for every breath."  Without her voluminous layers of clothing, the bulge in her abdomen was much more noticeable.

   "How long has she been bleeding?"  The water that Grace was using to clean Winn up a bit was as red as dye; the sight turned Jack's stomach.  He'd never been squeamish around blood before, even when Winn had been injured previously.  But this was different.  This blood was supposed to be keeping his child, their child, alive.  "This is important, Jack.  I need to know how much blood she's lost."

   "An hour . . . perhaps closer to two."

   "And she supposedly ingested the poison some time last night?"

   "Aye."

   Grace was silent for a moment as she thought. Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, she laid a hand on Winn's belly as another contraction squeezed the breath from her lungs.  Still muttering, she felt for Winn's pulse.

   "Well?"  Jack couldn't contain his impatience any longer.  "What say you?"

   Choosing each word with extreme care, Grace slowly said, "While Freddy seems to be in pain, I don't think enough castor bean entered her system to trigger a complete miscarriage.  The contractions are too weak to do anything more than cause discomfort."  She saw Jack relax, and hurried to give the rest of her news.  "But that doesn't mean she's out of danger, Jack.  There's still the bleeding to deal with.  If it can't be stopped, her body may well choose to reject the babe in order to save her life."

   "She'll fight."

   Grace nodded.  "I know.  But even if everything here turns out well, if she doesn't bleed to death and if she manages to keep the babe, she's going to have to take things easy.  A minimum of walking, no climbing, no lifting anything heavier than a book, lots of bed-rest.  She's not to be excited in any fashion, no bedplay, lots of sleep.  If she ignores any of this, she could still lose the child.  Not to mention that her body will be weak for weeks after this."

   "What're you tryin' to tell me, lass?  That I got her here for nothing?"

   "No.  I'm saying that . . . I'm saying that . . . things may not turn out happily.  There's that risk.  I'll do what I can to help, but most of the work is going to be up to Winn."

   "She's strong enough."  Jack watched as Pige crawled towards the bed on her belly, pausing at the foot and letting out a pitiful whimper.

   "Is she, Jack?"

   Jack knew that Grace was only trying to prepare him for the worst, but it irritated him nonetheless.  "If she's not, then she's stubborn enough."

   Marcus stepped in before this could scale into a full-fledge argument.  "Why don't you go sit with her for a while, Jack?"

   The pirate shook his head, the numerous baubles and beads braided into it clanking against each other.  "I'd love to, mate, but I can't.  It wouldn't do for our friends out there to label her a pirate.  The only care she'd get then is a guarantee of a stay of execution."  He looked away from his wife for the first time in several long minutes.  "And while we're on the topic of pirates, I think it best that you don't let on that you know either of us.  If the Commodore hasn't figured out your connection to Winn, I'd rather not have him informed.  Too many coincidences."

   "Jack, if you're asking me to hand you over to Commodore Norrington without question –"  Marcus paused as Jack's dark eyes connected with his.

   In a tone more serious than he had ever used in his life, Jack said, "I'm not asking, I'm telling you that this is the way it has to be, lad.  I knew what my reception was to be as soon as I identified this ship as British.  Don't worry.  I've fallen into the Commodore's clutches before and lived to tell about it."  Looking over his should towards the door, Jack quickly walked towards the bed.

   "Winnie, look at me love."  

   Jack didn't expect a reaction to the request, but Winn heard him through the fog confusing her mind.  She fought to breathe through the pain and to open her uncooperative eyelids.  Gasping slightly as another wave of sensation engulfed her, she managed to whisper his name.  ". . . jack . . ."  _Can't see.  Can't see._  Struggling, she managed to push the veil over her sight to the side so she could look into her husband's face.  ". . . I'm sorry, Jack . . . . I didn't mean for this to happen . . . ."

   "Shh, love.  You've nothing to be sorry about.  I need you to listen to me.  Can you do that?"  Time pressed down of Jack, underlining his urgency.  They'd been left undisturbed for too long.  Sooner or later the Commodore was going to come knocking with reinforcements.  "You're with Marcus and Grace.  They're going to keep you safe."

   ". . . don't leave me . . . ."

   "I have my own work to do right now, Winnie.  I need you to stay here and get better.  I need to be able to depend on you to do this."

   Winn was silent, staring up into her husband's eyes.  For her he let the seriousness in them be displaced by anxiety, concern, love, and more than a little fear.  _Have to make the fear go away.  I'm not supposed to scare him.  ". . . alright . . . ."  It was hard to get enough air to talk.  ". . . love you . . . ."  Her eyes slipped shut as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.  ". . . fighting . . . ."_

   "I know, love.  I'm so proud of you.  Just keep fighting."  His time was up; he could hear booted feet approaching the cabin.  Briskly he walked over the wall opposite of the bunk and took up a relaxed posture.  "Take care of my wife.  Once she's well, then you can worry about me."

   Almost before he stopped speaking, the door flung open to reveal the Commodore and several armed redcoats.  "Captain Morgan, Mrs. Morgan, I'm sorry to intrude, but I believe that you've had sufficient time to question Mr. Sparrow –"

   "Captain, Commodore Norrington.  You forgot the 'captain.'"  Jack closed his mouth at the glare that the irritated man shot him, acting repentant.  "Sorry, mate.  Old habits die hard."

   "Men, please escort _Mister_ Sparrow to the brig and see that he's made comfortable."  If Jack weren't so worried about Winn, the way Norrington managed to talk without moving his lips would have been funny.  He watched out of masked eyes as the soldiers closed in around him, wary of their intentions.  If he knew anything about the English's sense of propriety and treatment of women, he was probably in for a few undeserved injuries.  However, before the men could reach him, Jack found himself being zealously defended by Pige.  The dog was growling deep in her throat and had her hackles up, every inch of her the apparent killer.

   The redcoats halted their advance, unsure of what to do.  Jack simply stayed leaning against the wall, not bothering to rein the dog in.  He didn't think that Pigeon would attack without being told to, and it was good for these military types to remember that not everyone was awed by the untold might of the British empire.

   "Whose dog is that," demanded the Commodore, eying Jack sourly as if he suspected he man of deliberately trying to cause him a headache.

   Jack shrugged.  "It came with the wench, so I'll assume it's hers."

   "You're asking me to believe that the pet of someone who has, to all appearances, met with foul play, is defending the one person under suspicion of harming its mistress?"

   "Nah, I'm simply saying that perhaps I've managed to win the mutt over."

   "Mister Sparrow, it would please me to no end if you could managed to keep such comments to yourself."

   "Get used to disappointment, mate.  It's seems as if we may be stuck with each other for some time, unless you've changed your mind and are about to let me go."  Jack looked away from the other man when he saw a blur move out of the corner of his eye.  One of the soldiers had gotten too close for Pige's comfort, and she lunged forward, snapping at his ankle.

   "Pigeon!"  All the men turned to stare at Grace, Jack with a warning in his eyes.  Pige was a good dog and would obey anyone she was familiar with, but he didn't need the good Commodore wondering why a strange dog would listen to a stranger.  It was too late though, Pige broke off her attack to watch Grace uncertainly, whining anxiously.

   "Mrs. Morgan, how –"

   Grace quickly interrupted the Commodore.  "The dog's name is on her collar.  Come here, Pigeon."  Reluctantly, the dog obeyed, coming to sit at the woman's feet.  She butted her head against Grace's hip as if in apology, but never took her eyes off the men threatening her mistress' mate.  Grace was smart enough to figure out that the dog may still bolt, so she wrapped her hand around the mutt's collar.  "Really, if you're about to brawl you need to take it outside.  All this noise and hostility isn't good for my patient."  Jack wondered if anyone would fall for that.  

   Winn was laying quietly on the bunk, pale as alabaster, her chest barely rising and falling.  _Grace never said anything about Winn dying because she couldn't breathe.  Ignoring the men around them, Jack thought to his wife, _Com'on Winnie, breathe.  Once more breath, love, just one more._  As if she could hear him, Winn's chest slowly rose and fell before pausing.  _Again, love._  Another slow breath, then another, and another.  Jack relaxed fractionally when he realized that she wasn't about to stop breathing any time soon.  __That's my girl.  Fight, Winn.  Never realizing that his arms had been seized by two soldiers, he concentrated on Winn.  _Just keep breathing, love.  Let someone else take care of the rest.__

   "Come along, you," one of the soldiers growled, jerking on the chain connecting Jack's wrists.  The metal bracelets dug into his skin painfully, but Jack fought the urge to resist.  Right now things depended with him going along with these men painfully.  He was a pirate, a man who had no concern for anything but his ship and his own well-being.  He needed to placate, not irritate, and keep his eyes open for any opportunity to escape.  Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard himself telling Will, _"May I ask you something? Have I ever given you reason not to trust me? Do us a favor, I know it's difficult for you but please stay here . . . and try not to do anything stupid."_  Jack hoped he could follow his own advice.

Pain.  Pain, and more pain, and a weight crushing her chest so she couldn't breathe, and darkness every time she opened her eyes.

   The dreams wouldn't stop.  Winn wanted nothing more to wake up and discover what was going on around her, but she couldn't shake the dreams' hold on her.  Once after another, memories paraded through her mind, reminding her of everything that had happened to her in the past four years. ****

_   "Don't even be considering such a thing, Winnie.  Tortuga is no Port Royal.  A woman like you'd be on her back within minutes of setting foot on the dock.  You are to remain here, do you understand me?"_

_   "While I find your concern for my safety touching, perhaps even heartwarming, I find your lack of faith in my abilities to be rather disappointing."_  Even then she had wanted to be taken seriously, had wanted to prove that she wasn't weak.  And even then, Jack had been concerned for her safety, even when he didn't have a good reason to be.  Things shifted before she could remember more, and another conversation rose in her mind.

_   "Winnie?  You think I'm charming?"_

_   Taking a long look at him, head to toes, then meeting his eyes, Winn replied slowly, "I think you're too charming for the good of most women, Captain."_

_   "So you do think I'm charming."  Jack was doing that thing with his voice again, teasing her in a way that begged her to lose all semblance of composure.  It was working better than it usually did, Winn noted.  It **must be because I'm tired.**_

_   Swallowing and turning her head, Winn answered, "I think I will strive not to be most women."_  And she wasn't most women.  She was the one, the _one woman who had managed to catch Jack Sparrow's interest for good.  The memory faded to give way to another._

_   "So this grandfather of yours just lives on this island doing nothing but counting his money and arguing with his wife, if she's anything like you that is.  That sounds like a rather good reason for pirates to grow old."_  He had no idea.  Winn wanted nothing more than to grow old with her husband, to be able to argue with him, and yell at him, and stomp away from him every day for the rest of her life if the mood so struck her.

_   "If we may go downstairs to dinner before the food goes cold?"_

_   "Not so fast.  I still seem to detect a grievous imbalance of pretty women."_

_   "Here, take Elizabeth."  Both Jack and Elizabeth were about to protest this pairing, but Will ignored them.  "She should be relatively safe in your company.  I'm not so sure about Winn."_  No.  Will had been wrong.  She was always safe when Jack was with her.  But where was he now?  Why couldn't she find him.

_   "Now do you understand, Captain Sparrow?  Do you see why I fight to keep myself apart?  Do you see that no matter how I wish things were different, that they can't be because I can't change?"  _

_   Smoothing his thumbs over her cheekbones, Jack said quietly, "Come to bed, love."  He held her eyes with his, hoping that she had heard the difference in a name he constantly called her._

_   Winn stood looking up at him for no more than an instant before the tears in her eyes spilled over.  She slumped into him, burying her head in his neck as sobs started wracking her body._  That night, that night that he had accepted her despite all the doubts she had about herself had been the first night she had admitted that he had come to mean something to her.  Something more than simply a man she _could_ love.  She had realized he was the man she _wanted_ to love.  She had held onto him all that night, letting him support her as waves of emotional pain had wracked her body.  But where was he now?  She hurt and he wasn't here holding her.

   "Stop thrashing, Freddy.  You're going to make things worse if you don't lie still."  Winn obeyed the voice because she could feel the pain in her abdominal muscles, sharps stabs of pain interspersed with waves of weakness.  Calming, Winn let the dreams take her again.

_   "You.  I want you.  I need you, Winnie.  I don't know why, and I can't begin to comprehend how I came to need an ornery, stubborn, hot-tempered woman anymore than I think you can.  But the truth is the same."  His voice, which was already low, took on a decisive and decidedly possessive tone.  "You're mine, Winnie.  I never would have agreed to a wedding if I hadn't decided that long ago."_   And when he had confirmed that he wanted to be with her as much as she needed to be with him, her heart had both flown and fell – but it had been alright because he had been there.

   _Jack . . . where are you?  I'm so tired._

   _"I know, love.  I'm so proud of you.  Just keep fighting."_  

   "I can't, Jack . . . .  I'm so tired."

   _". . . fight . . . ."_  It was almost as if he were in the room with her.  Winn set her mind to fighting the waves of pain that were slowly fading.  Jack was proud of her.  He loved her.  If he thought she could fight, she would.  And she would win.

"Jack?"  Marcus had finally found the opportunity to come down and talk with his brother-in-law.  For the past several hours he had been kept busy directing his men and listening to the story that Norrington had gotten from Jack.  That had been the worst part – sitting and listening to a complete confabulation when all he wanted to do was go down to the brig himself and get the real story.  "Jack."  His sister's husband was sitting against the wall, legs drawn up to his chest, arms carelessly draped over his knees.

   "How's Winnie?"  Jack tilted his head up to study his wife's brother.

   Marcus had to hold back a groan when he saw Jack's face.  His lower lip was split and his left eye had been blackened.  "Don't tell me that the Commodore condoned that."

   Jack's lips twitched in an aborted smile.  "No, this was a gift from two of your men before the good Commodore arrived below decks.  Not that I blame the men.  If I had caught anyone with Winn while she was in such a state, I'd probably leave them in a worse state.  It's not their fault that they're quick to think the worst of a pirate."  Taking a deep breath, he repeated his original question, "How's Winn?"

   "Holding her own.  The worst of it seems to have passed, but Grace is worried about the child.  Its being rather active for having almost been miscarried."

   "If Winn were awake, she'd say it was a good sign."

   "If my sister was awake, she'd be saying almost anything to put your mind at ease."  Marcus looked around for a seat.  Spying an abandoned crate, he pulled it over to the bars of Jack's cell.  "Now, what are the two of you doing out here?  The last we heard, you'd just made a successful raid on a Spanish galleon in the Keyes, and Winn wrote that she was planning to make an appearance in Port Royal to visit us and the Turners."

   Jack shrugged.  "Tell me, do you remember anything important happenin' to Winn about eleven years ago?"

   Marcus had to stop and think before answering, "Yes.  She came home injured from a raid gone sour.  Almost died according to Grandfather and the doctors.  However, her first mate assured us that the man who had shot her was dead."

   "Aye.  He died.  Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of his endearing family."  Quickly and without embellishment, Jack told their story from the time when the _Pearl had attacked the derelict ship to how he'd fallen into Gandolfi's hands, to Winn's appearance to rescue him._

   "Blasted woman still doesn't know when to let others take care of things."  Jack closed his eyes and rested his head against the hull of the ship.  "I still can't believe that she came after me while nearly five months pregnant, and I can't forgive Gandolfi for what he did."  _Can't forgive myself either.  I should have been more careful, should have made her be more careful._

   Silence reigned for several minutes before Marcus cleared his throat.  Jack raised his head and looked at him, seeing how uncomfortable the man was.  "Spit it out lad.  I doubt anything you have to say can make the circumstances worse."

   "Jack . . . ."

   "If you're looking for a polite way to tell me that Norrington is out for my neck, you can stop wasting your breath.  The man made it extremely clear what he thought of my story, and what he believes really happened.  Luckily for me, he'll wait for conformation from Winn before he hangs me for attempted murder, and unfortunately for him, it'll be another week before Grace lets him talk to her."

   "Jack, how can you be so calm about this?"

   "Because Norrington and I want the same thing – the head of the man who would attempt to murder an unborn child and its mother.  We just have a difference of opinion over who's responsible.  How can I be upset with a man who takes my wife under his care when he doesn't even know her?"

   "He's determined to see you hanged this time, Jack."

   "Doesn't matter, lad.  I'm more determined to kill Gandolfi.  We'll just have to work our way around the hangman's noose."

   "He's not only going to have you watched around the clock, but the Turners as well.  How can you be so confident of eluding the Crown's justice this time.  Even if Norrington believes Freddy, he's got a rather stunning array of other crimes to hang you for."

   "You're forgetting one thing, Marcus."  As the man watched his pirate kin, he saw a light come to his eyes that had been missing since he'd come aboard with his wife.  "I have two oaths to see carried out.  One to my wife, one to my enemy."  Stretching his legs out, he continued, "And if that weren't enough, then here's the reason I'm so certain.  I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, pirate extraordinaire, devoted husband," a new tone entered his voice as he listed his last reason supporting his inevitable success, "and soon to be father."  The tone in his voice was amazement.

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**Author Thanks:  jackfan2!  Where are you?!  I miiisss yooouuu!  : )**

**lilitaliandragon**** – trust me when I say that  I do not mean to turn Norrington into a jerk.  He's just hard to get inside the guy's head.  But I think I finally have.  I knew there was more to him than the military officer, and I think you might like what I've found.  Stick around to find out what I mean.**

**ao_hoshi******

**Mooney**

**TaraRose******

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**KawaiiRyu******

**mooranda******

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**Eledhwen******

**Ashley – Sara passed along your e-mail.  I'm so glad that you're enjoying not only my story, but hers.  I swear, I love that kid – and her OUATIM fic.  They both rock, and you can rock my OUATIM soundtrack.  I just _love_ new reviewers.  I hope to hear from you again.**

**SprklingSatine******

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**my sister Theresa**

**Kerry**

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**Arwen**** Lune – yay!  I love hearing from you!**

**pirate-princess – new reviewer!  You can rock my copy of  "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" which, contrary to popular belief, is my _favorite_ movie of all time, only barely beating PotC for the title.**

**poppet – I was trying to remember if you had reviewed back in the early days if 'Inconvenient' but was unable to find a review.  So either I'm nuts or I have a horrible memory.  Either way, I am so glad to hear from you, and I hope I get to again in the near future.**

**Clover the Sae-Beast**

**I'm sorry I didn't have time to do a more extensive thanks, but it's been over a week since I got the first reviews for chapter 18 and I can't remember even half of those I got for 19.  Just know that I appreciate hearing from each and every one of you, that each of you are an incredible encouragement, and that I don't know if I could write a fic like this without your feedback.  This really is a group effort, and I appreciate the time you take to send me reviews.  Thank you all.**

**Sarah (aka – rythmteck)**


	21. Unwanted Desitations

**Author's Note:  wow, I got this one up fast.  All this talk of PotC and such has fired my imagination – that or the lack of PotC in my life is filling me with such agony that I have no other choice to write lest I explode.  (How's that for dramatic? ^_^)**

**Anyway, chapter 21, up ever so much sooner than I expected.  Also unexpected – this fic is looking as if I'm going to end up winding things up around chapter 40 or something.  I thought I had my plot down, but new elements, new sides keep popping up that are no less valid than the rest of the story.  And my chapters are already longer than "Inconvenient's" where on average.  *sigh*  For once I wish I could do something on a small scale.  Like my one shot fic entitled 'One Shot  (Shameless self-promotion, I know.)**

**Author's thanks at the end.**

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_So tired._  All she wanted was sleep, but sleep was elusive, and when it did come there were the dreams that made her want to wake up.  _So tired.  Awareness was elusive as well.  Most of the time she couldn't tell if she now lived in dreams, or if her dreams had come true, or if somehow the world around her had changed and this is what it felt like to be dead.  For some reason she had always imagined death to be more peaceful than this.  Perhaps it was purgatory.  __So tired._

   Someone was trying to force her to drink again.  She didn't want to drink.  Winn turned her head away from the persistent cup at her lips, but it followed.  A voice came out of the layers of reality and dream wrapped around her; it sounded irritated.  Winn lethargically wondered what they had to be irritated about – no one was forcing liquids down their throat.  She turned her head again, and again the cup followed.  Parting her lips she took a sip, and choked as some of the liquid trickled down her windpipe.  Whoever was watching over her let her be.

   _So tired._  She let her mind slip down the slope that led towards sleep, ignoring the urgent voice at the back of her head that said if she slept now she might not wake up.  Images rose in her mind as she sunk farther and farther into unconsciousness: ships, a gaggle of children, an old man with a flamingo, a portrait of a pair of intense eyes framed by kohl, laugh-lines, and a strand of beads.  _"Fight . . . ."  She didn't want to fight.  Fighting hurt, it revived her weakness, it scared her.  If she slept, she wouldn't remember what she was scared of._

   "Why are you here?"  The voice startled Winn.  It had been so long since any voice had made sense to her.  She opened her eyes and saw that child again, the one that she'd seen right after Jack had left her at Swallows Rest.  "Why are you giving up?"

   "It hurts.  I'm tired."  She was so confused.  Why was this child asking her questions?

   "Life is pain, but it's also joy.  Living makes people tired, but that's why they sleep."

   "That's what I'm trying to do."  If she and Jack had a child, would it look like this one?  Winn dismissed the idea.  It was too much to think about.

   "This isn't the way to sleep."

   "It isn't?"  Still confused, Winn looked back up the path she'd been descending.  Behind her was light and color.  She knew that was the normal world, the waking world.  She'd come from that direction.  Was the child lying to her?  

   "I'm not lying."  Winn turned to face the child again.  It was pointing at the path she had come down.  Following the small finger with her eyes, she saw that the trail divided some ways back.  Funny, she hadn't seen that path.  "That's the way to sleep."  The smaller path led to darkness, a back void that swallowed everything around it.  Not that there was much of anything in this place she was standing, but there was something about that encompassing void that scared Winn.

   "No.  I won't go that way.  You _are_ lying.  This is the way to sleep."  She took another step forward, but suddenly the child was in her way.

   "Take a closer look at your chosen course."  Winn did.  The landscape in front of her was much the same as the point that the other path led to.  Instead of a void that swallowed everything though, this path led to a dark red fog.  It looked warm where the other looked cold.  Winn was already cold.  She _wanted_ to be warm.  "Don't be tempted.  That's death."

   No.  It couldn't be.  Death was supposed to be scary, not inviting.  It was supposed to be dark, not the warm color of scarlet that met her eyes.  "How do you know?"

   The child gave a sad smile.  "I've seen many people go down this path, but I never seen anyone come back up.  That path," it pointed again, "people follow it and they disappear for a time, but they always come back out.  They go back up the path and disappear into the light."

   Winn glanced back and forth between the black void and the red one.  "I'm so tired."

   "I know."

   She could feel the pull the red haze had on her.  "I can't fight it."

   "You must."

   "Why?"  She couldn't remember anything about her life that was worth struggling for.  She couldn't remember anything other than this conversation.  If it was death that was ahead of her, she wouldn't resist.

   "You have a family that loves you.  A grandfather who raised and takes pride in you.  Brothers who'd do anything for you.  Your brother's wives who've taken you in as a sister.  Nieces and nephews who adore you.  Friends who trust and enjoy spending time with you."

   "Grandfather has my brothers, my brothers have their wives and vice versa.  My nieces and nephews have their parents and siblings, my friends have other friends.  They all have lives of their own, apart from me."  _So tired._

   "You have a child who depends on you for life."

   Winn felt gentle kicks inside her body.  How had she forgotten her child?

   "You have a husband who relies on you.  Who _is_ relying on you."

   "Winnie."  Winn didn't turn, having forgotten what her name was.  All she could remember was exhaustion, and before that, pain.  "Winnie."  The voice.  "Winnie, love."  That voice was familiar.  Winn turned her back on the child and the red fog beyond it.

   There was a man standing at place where the two paths diverged.  He was dressed in clothing that looked worn and aged, but comfortable.  He had long hair that had bits and pieces of wood and shell woven into it, and dark intense eyes.  There was a red bandana over his brow and a battered hat on his head.  His face was covered by a beard still unmarked with silver and a luxurious mustache.  She knew him, but couldn't remember his name.  She stared at him and tried to remember, but all the effort brought her was another wave of exhaustion.  "Come here, Winnie."

   No.  He wanted her to go into that dark cold place.  She could tell.  Winn took a step backwards.  "No."  A look over her shoulder told her that the child had gone, though she hadn't heard it leave.

   The man leaned forward, although he didn't take a step closer to her.  If the look on his face was any indication, he wanted to, but couldn't.  "Fight, Winnie."

   She shook her head.  "I'm so tired," she pleaded.  All of a sudden she was near tears.  She could feel them overwhelming her eyes, blurring her vision.  "I can't."  Another step back; she could feel the ground sloping steeply behind her.  Her foot slipped on some loose stones and she fell.

   "Winn!"  There was another voice under his, a woman's voice.  Despite the fact she had only taken two steps from her original position, he seemed to be much father away than he had been.  "Fight it, Winn.  I know you can."

   Why did he say that?  She couldn't fight.  She was too tired to fight.  Nearly too tired to care.  She looked in his eyes again and found more emotion in them than she had expected to find.  Almost against her will, curiosity rose up inside her.  Who was this man and why did he care so much?  Perhaps she should find out before going back to the red place.  Maybe he'd tell her his name.  _Yes.  I'd like to know his name._

   Pulling herself up on her hands and feet, Winn crawled forward.  It was harder to do than she had thought it would be.  Her muscles had to strain to fight the downwards pull of the slope.  She couldn't do it on her own.  "Help me . . . ."

   The man looked sad, despairing even.  "I can't, love.  This is your choice.  Your fight."

   She had to do this alone?  She didn't think she could.  For a split second, or perhaps for as much as an hour, she contemplated giving up.  It would be so much easier.  **_But it's not who you are.  You don't give up._**

**   _I don't?_**

   **_No.  You don't.  You fight._**

**   Winn fought.  She sunk her fingers into the dirt and pulled herself up the path.  It was hard.  It hurt.  It was difficult to breathe.  She was covered in sweat.  But she did it.  Halfway up the slope she was able to stumble to her feet – her legs were unsure whether they wanted to support her, but she fought to control them.  _Just long enough to reach that man._**

   Before she knew it, she had managed to stumble within reach of the man standing at the split in the path.  Her body was one enormous ache, her hands and knees were bloody, her feet nearly numb.  _Just one more step._  She took it, and fell as her ankles and knees decided they no longer wanted to work in cooperation.  The ground rushed up at her, but never reached her.  The man she'd been struggling to reach had caught her.

   Instinctively her scratched and bleeding fingers dug into his upper arms, her nails catching on his coat.  "Who are you?"  Her voice was rough, her throat sore.  "I need to know."

   An arm curled around her waist, supporting her, as his other hand came up and brushed the hair and dirt from her face.  "Who do you think I am?"  He gave a gentle smile, his hand coming to rest against her cheek, cupping her face in a warm palm.  "You know who I am, love."

   "I do?"  Strange, but she no longer felt as tired as she had at the foot of the slope.  She still desired to do nothing more than lie down to sleep, but the urge wasn't nearly as overwhelming as it had been.  She rested her head against the man's chest, feeling it expand and contract with his breath, feeling the heart beneath it steadily and rhythmically beating.  Was her heart beating?  Closing her eyes to better concentrate, she listened for the sound of her heart, for the sound of blood rushing through her ears.  Yes, the sound was faint, but it was there.  She was alive.  "My heart."

   "What's that, love?"

   "My heart.  You're my heart."

   She could feel the man smile against the top of her head.  "That sounds about right."  The arm around her waist tightened.  "What do you want to do now?"

   "Sleep."

   "Are you sure, Winnie?"

   She lifted her head and looked into his face, then turned her head to look back down the hill.  The red cloud was fading, breaking up, losing its allure.  Turning her head the other way, she looked into the blackness of the void there.  It no longer scared her, it merely looked comforting.  She looked the man in the eye again – the blackness of the void was repeated in his eyes.  Nodding, she said, "I'm tired."

   The man chuckled.  "You've mentioned that once or twice already."

   "Do I have to go alone?"  The idea of sleep appealed to her, but she didn't want to leave this man either.

   "Yes, love.  This is still your fight.  But I'll be right here waiting for you."

   "Promise?"

   "I promise."

   Winn nodded and reluctantly pulled away from him.  "Right here?"

   "Right here."

   Again Winn nodded, and this time walked down the path towards sleep.

Grace collapsed into a chair.  For a few hours there, it had seemed as if Winn wasn't going to make it.  But now her sister-in-law was sleeping; real, regular, healing sleep, not the restless fever-plagued semi-consciousness that hadn't lifted since Jack had left the cabin nearly twenty-four hours before.  The bleeding had slowed to a snail's pace, which while somewhat worrying, was completely natural.  If it didn't stop within the next two or three days, then that would be something to be concerned about.  For now though,  it was enough that the bleeding had slowed, her fever had broken, and she was resting easily.  Grace closed her eyes and started rolling her head on her neck, feeling muscles and tendons made tense by anxiety stretch and relax.

   There was a small _snick_ as the door to the cabin opened and closed.  The woman didn't bother opening her eyes.  Her husband was the only person aboard that would dare enter without knocking.  She heard him walk across the room with tentative steps, the heels of his boots informing her of his hesitancy.  Grace listened as the footsteps paused by her chair and then continued to the bed.  "How is she?"

   Not even bothering to open her eyes, Grace said, "She's going to make it."  A yawn almost unhinged her jaw.  "For a while there, I thought we were going to lose her."  She felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder, and fighting against the urge to simply nod off, she opened her eyes to look at her husband.

   "Thank you."  He pressed a kiss into the top of her head.  "Whatever you did, thank you."

   Grace gave Marcus a weary smile.  "I wish I could take the credit for it, but I can't.  Winn pulled herself through this."  She sighed.  "I don't know what happened.  I was trying to get her to take a sip of water, and the next thing I knew her eyes were wide open, but I don't think she was seeing anything in this room.  And then she started mumbling about how tired she was – that's when I thought we were going to lose her.  She actually stopped breathing at one point in time.  But something happened that changed all that.  One moment I was mopping sweat off her forehead, and in the next I could feel her skin starting to cool, her breathing became less labored, and she became less restless.  And then she was asleep."  She chuckled.  "I've got to stop doubting Jack when he says things that seem ridiculous."  Grace shifted in her chair so that she rested more fully against her husband.

   "What'd he say that seemed ridiculous?"

   "He said that Winn was stubborn enough to live through this and keep the baby.  In my heart I hoped he was right, but my head and experience was telling me how very unlikely that was.  I've seen stubborn girls killed by castor bean before, when they tried to rid themselves of an unwanted pregnancy.  But he was right – she managed to do it."

   Marcus shrugged.  "I always knew my little sister was special."  He paused before asking, "And the babe?"

   "Still alive and kicking."  

   There was something in Grace's voice that made Marcus freeze.  "But?"

   "What do you mean?"

   Grace was definitely trying to avoid telling him something.  "What aren't you saying, Grace?"

   She sighed.  "I'm not saying anything, because I've no proof that anything is wrong."  She stopped, and then seemed to say against her better judgment, "Winn was poisoned.  She and the babe survived the worst, but there's no telling if the babe was affected in some other way.  There's the chance that Winn will give birth to a perfectly healthy child, but there's also the possibility that the poison harmed the child in some way, that it'll have some kind of defect.  There's no way to tell or predict."  There were tears slipping down her cheeks unnoticed at the thought of her sister having gone through all this simply for more disappointment and pain.

   "Shh, sweetheart.  Shh.  You've done what you can, and no one can blame you for anything that happens now.  Things are no longer in your hands."

   "I know.  I'm just tired."  Grace took a deep, shuddery breath."

   "At least you're not sea-sick anymore," Marcus pointed out.

   Grace whacked him on the shoulder.  "Thanks for the reminder, you brute."  She squeezed his hand.  "I think you'd best go share the good news with Jack, if you can."

   Marcus shrugged.  "I'm the Captain.  I can do as I wish.  The only person likely to question me is Norrington, and he's too busy in his cabin to notice anything at the moment."

   "Doing what?"

   "I haven't the foggiest."  Marcus sighed, and let go of his wife.  "I'd best be on my way then."  He took one last look at the woman on the bed, then made to leave the room.  When he opened the door, however, he found his superior on the other side with his fist raised to knock.  "Sir, is there something I can help you with?"

   Norrington replaced his hand behind his back, squaring his shoulders in correct military fashion.  "I decided that I should check on the progress of Mrs. Morgan's patient.  How is she?"  He walked into the cabin.  "Has she said anything as of yet?"  When Grace would have stood up, Norrington motioned for her to remain seated.  "Please, I can see that you're tired.  I promise not to take too much of your time."  Marcus slipped unnoticed out the door.

   Grace noticed, but didn't say anything.  "I'm afraid that my patient hasn't regained enough consciousness to say much of anything, Commodore."  It was true – everything Winn had said up until now hadn't made much sense at all.  "However, her fever has broken and it appears that she will make it.  I expect her to awaken some time tomorrow."

   Norrington nodded in a way that made it seem as if his thoughts were elsewhere.  "Was there any evidence of maltreatment, other than the fact that she had been . . . poisoned?"

   There was something about the way he was acting that made Grace think that he cared far more about Winn's health than he was willing to admit, and not just because he didn't like to see a woman suffer.  "Well, as you can see, there's a bit of bruising on her face, but that could have easily been caused by a fall."  Grace suspected that it had actually been caused by someone's hand, but the bruise had faded enough and Winn's skin had regained enough color that any sort of shape was impossible to determine.  "Other than that, she was undamaged."

   Norrington nodded, again seemingly half distracted by something else.  "Please inform me when she regains consciousness.  I need to have her answer some questions about how she ended up in this condition."

   "I think it'd be best if you waited a few days before interrogating her, Commodore."  Her husband's superior looked at her, his face expressionless.  She'd known the man long enough to know that the face he was making was actually a cover for some stronger emotion.  Not that she knew which one.  _Curiouser__, and curiouser, she thought.  "She's going to be very weak, and undoubtedly much too weak to answer any questions with any confidence or clarity."_

   "Very well."  The commodore pulled his shoulders back in what appeared to be a nervous habit, even though he was already standing as strait as might be expected of anyone who felt the effects of gravity.  "We shall reach Port Royal by tomorrow afternoon.  I assume that you wish to keep the young woman under your care?"  Grace nodded.  "Very well.  Please inform the garrison if there's any way that we can help, and send for me as soon as you feel she's able to answer some questions."

   "Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir."  Grace walked the man to the door, despite his efforts to keep her seated.  "I'm sure that my patient will be gratified to hear how concerned you were over her well-being."

   "Perhaps.  Good evening, Mrs. Morgan."

   "Good evening, Commodore."  The man left, and Grace gratefully closed the door behind him.  His behavior had been strange, unsettling even.  He had acted as if he had a personal interest in Winn's well-being, which was ridiculous.  Why was he showing so much concern for a woman he'd seen but never even talked to?

   Grace raised a hand and rubbed her temple as she turned from the door.  She'd try to get Winn to drink something one last time before settling down for a nap.  As she raised her head and looked towards the bed, however, a smile broke out across her face.  Despite her weariness, she couldn't help the sweet feeling that filled her at the scene that awaited her.  Pige, tired of being banned from her mistress' side, had crawled up on the bed as Grace's back had been turned, and had managed to bury her head underneath one of Winn's hands.  She looked at Grace mournfully, as if begging not to be displaced.

   "Well, if it's that important to you."  The dog's tail thumped the mattress.

_Bored._  Jack hated being locked up.  When there were other people interred with him, it wasn't so bad.  Even idiots and common thieves could be entertaining if not actual company.  But no – it was his luck to be locked up all by his onesies, with only the overly disdainful guard at the door.  Jack had tried talking to the man to irritate him if nothing else, but hadn't gotten a reaction.  Not even a curse.  In his opinion, the man had been trained to his job a little too well.  _Bored.  At least he wasn't worried anymore, and that was an improvement on the past few days.  The reason he was no longer worried, was that Marcus had left some twenty minutes ago, leaving behind some welcome news.   _

   Leaning back against the wall, Jack relaxed for the first time in over forty-eight hours.  As he took a deep breath, he focused on clearing his mind of the fear and anxiety that had been clouding it.  Just two hours before, Winn had almost lost her fight, but now she appeared to be resting comfortably.  Jack didn't know who he should thank for the miracle, or if thinking about it too often would jinx it, but he couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over him.  Winn was safe for the time being, resting in the presence of her family.

   **_What would you have done if she had died?_**

**The question raised was a good one.  He'd been too concerned to think about it earlier.  Despite being a rather realistic man, he'd been afraid that the mere thought of losing Winn was an invitation for fate to do its worst.  His little adventure with the Turners and Barbossa nearly five years ago had shown him that there were indeed forces that meddled in the mortal world that humans didn't necessarily understand.  But now that Winn was out of danger, it was probably for the best that he consider the question.  His life – their life together – was too uncertain to not know the answer to such an important what-if.  _If she'd died, I wouldn't have rested until Gandolfi is dead._**

_   **And after that?**_

**Jack had once told Winn that he wasn't so used to love that the sentiment would make him stupid.  He wasn't sure that the same thing could be said now.  He'd like to think that he would go on living, go on raiding ships and turning everyone's conceptions about what a sun-baked, half daft pirate could do inside out, but something inside of him said differently.  Yes, he'd go on being a pirate, but that's because that's all there would be left of him.  Winn meant too much to Jack-the-man for that part of him to survive without her.  The pirate would be all that was left of him; he'd go on raiding ships and ports alike, but he'd care for nothing more than his ship, and possibly her crew, but in an impersonal way.  And it was most likely that one day the man would give up entirely to leave the pirate to take a single risk that was too great, and that would be the end of Captain Jack Sparrow.**

   **_So what are you going to do, mate?_**

**_Trick or escape the navy somehow, find Gandolfi, and then kill him._**

**After _that._**

   Why was his inner-self so concerned with 'afters'?  Pirates didn't have 'afters.'  They had 'nows'.

   **_Keep Winn safe?_**

**   That sounded like a good idea.**

   **_Leave her after the child is born._**

   That didn't sound like a good idea.

   **_As long as you're a pirate, she's in danger.  You've seen that.  The sea is in your blood – as long as you're alive you'll be a pirate.  You know that.  If loosing Winn endangers your life, then you need to keep her on land where she'll be safe.  If you should ever endanger her life, you need to stay away from her.  You can always stop by a few times each year to make sure she and the kid are safe.  That's how Bootstrap managed things._**

   There was a blaring justification for such a crackpot idea.  _Bill Turner's only son had no idea what his father really did for a living, and discovering what he did do nearly destroyed the lad.  And Bill still lost everything in the end.  _Still, the lure of keeping Winn safe was a strong one.  _This doesn't matter at the moment.  I have bigger problems to figure out – such as how I'm going to get away from the hangman this time around.  Jack forced himself to settle his mind on the most immediate hurdle in his continued battle of wits against Norrington and the society he represented, but the idea of keeping Winn safe did nothing more than wait in the back of his head for the opportune moment to rear its persistent head._

Elizabeth Turner was taking a break from her shopping and errands to visit her husband.  It wasn't something she did often, both Will and the rest of respectable society having adamantly stated that a blacksmith's forge was no place for a lady.  Elizabeth didn't how if something was fit for Will, it couldn't also be fit for his wife, but she brushed the old annoyance aside and merely limited her visits to once every month or so.  Social dictates had already bowed enough to allow her to marry him and not become a disgrace to her father's name; she wouldn't keep pushing until things snapped back to injure her and those she cared for.

   The old wooden door to the smithy creaked as she opened it, the sound of hammers ringing on hot metal growing louder with her efforts.  Elizabeth stepped inside and closed the door behind her, standing still for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the lowered level of light inside the building.  No matter how often she did this, she'd never defeat the surprise that Will could work in such a dark building.  Maybe that's why he spent so much time outside with the children when he came home for the night.

   "Afternoon, Mz. Turner."

   "Hello, Ben."  Elizabeth, her eyes having adjusted enough for her to move down the shop's steps confidently, smiled at her husband's young apprentice.  She remembered how much Will had protested taking the boy in some months ago, saying that he was barely out of apprentice-hood himself – who was he to teach someone.  Elizabeth had simply commented that the best time to teach someone was when the mistakes _you had made where still fresh in you mind.  And as the only blacksmith in Port Royal since the one outside the town had died, he could use the help.  "Can you tell me where Mr. Turner is?"_

   "'e's in the back, ma'am."

   "Thank you."  Not bothering to linger and talk to the lad as she usually did, she hurried to the back room where Will kept and worked on accounts when he couldn't avoid it any longer.  Knocking on the door as she opened it, Elizabeth said, "Will?"

   "Elizabeth!  What are you doing here?"  While he sounded surprised, Elizabeth knew that he was simply eager to take a break from the ledgers spread out on the table before him.  As he hugged his wife, Will craned his neck to see out the door she'd just entered through.  "Where are the children?"

   "I left them with Agatha.  Two-year-olds and babes-in-arms don't mix will with a blacksmith's shop, Will."  She knew he was disappointed not to see two-year-old Wyatt and six month old Deborah, but she needed to talk to her husband right now without interruption, and the only way to do that was to have the children absent.  "Do you have time to talk to me?"

   "I always have time to talk to you, Elizabeth,  Besides, there's only so long I can focus on all these bloody numbers before my mind starts wandering."  He sighed, "Balancing the books isn't hard, but it is time consuming.  What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

   Elizabeth glanced around the small room.  "It's nothing, really.  It's just that Winn wrote that she'd be coming to visit sometime in the first half of the month, but I haven't heard word from her since."  Focusing on the buttons to his shirt, she raised her hands to play with them as she continued, "I know that Winn's estimates of when something may happen haven't been perfectly reliable since she got married, but if something does come up to change her plans, she usually writes."

   "Are you worried?"

   "Yes, I know I shouldn't be, that Jack would so anything to see Winn safe, but . . . ."

   "But he's a pirate?"  Both Will and Elizabeth smiled ruefully.

   "Yes, I suppose.  Not that I think he's unreliable either, it's just that he's a bit more likely to change his mind about where he's heading."  There was more to it than that, a unsettled feeling somewhere in her mind or spirit that she couldn't dismiss for the life of her.  However, before she could explain this, a knock on the door interrupted them.

   "Mr. Turner, there's a boy here to see you."

   "Thank you, Ben."  Will shrugged and gave Elizabeth a squeeze for good measure, then let her go.  "I promise we'll talk more about this later."  He opened the door and walked out into the main part of the smithy with his wife following close behind.  "What can I do for you, lad?"

   The boy at the door turned and stepped to the side.  As soon as the sun was no longer behind him, the couple could see that he was dressed as a cabin boy.  "Are you Mr. Turner?"  The strength of the child's accent gave him away as a new recruit fresh out of England.

   "Yes, I'm Will Turner."

   "Is Mrs. Turner with you, sir?  My message is for you both.  I went first to your house, but she wasn't there."

   Will, confused by the situation, gestured at the woman at his side.  "This is Mrs. Turner.  What news do you have for us?"

   "I carry a message from Captain and Mrs. Morgan.  They say that you need to meet them at their house at your earliest convenience."

   "Did they say why?"

   "No, sir, but I suspect it has something to do with the woman we found.  Poisoned by a pirate she was.  The infamous Jack Sparrow no less, or so the men are sayin'.  The Commodore is fit to be tied."  And with that extra bit of information, the boy scampered off, intent on spreading his news now that he had completed his mission.

   Will felt Elizabeth's nail digging into his arm in shock and alarm that paralleled his own.  What had Jack gotten himself into now?

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**Author's Note:  **YAY!  Page 100 in my Word doc. that contains all the chapters!  Joy!  Rature!

**Author's Thanks:**

**jackfan2**** – yay!  You're back!  I totally understand the hecticness that life can assume at times.  I'm just glad that it's almost Christmas break.  That's how I'm getting through my days now.  That and counting down to my birthday.  (Just 13 days left!)**

**EricaDawn******

**TaraRose******

**VagrantCandy******

**bobo3**** – be watching around Monday for my ideas on how I think Kendra could help out our daring duo here.  I need to get a better idea of how I'm going to fit another piece into this puzzle.  (But a very welcome piece, to be sure.)  ; )**

**Eledhwen******

**Ashley –**umm, lavish e-mail praises.  *eyes glaze over*  Yes, all is forgiven!  That's the nice thing about not being able to track how many hits your stories get – you don't know how many people out there aren't reviewing.  ; )  Sara-without-an-'h' lives in Washington, the state with an 'h'.  Sarah-with-an-'h' (namely me) lives in Oregon, the state without an 'h'.  Does that help clear things up for you?  ^_^  Totally agree about her channeling Sands – makes me worried for her mental health it does.  ; )  As for knowing what's coming up in her fic *sticks out tongue*  Lucky thing, you.  However, we've agreed not to discuss upcoming chapters with each other lest our fics start sounding amazingly alike.  P.S. à About that hat, can it be a big one with a feather that pokes people's eyes out?  : )

**SprklingSatine******

**pirate-miss**

**liliataliandragon******

**mollymo******

**ao_hoshi******

**KawaiiRyu******

**Clover the Sea-Beast**


	22. Through a Citizen's Eyes

**Author's Note: okay, you have to admit that this chapter did take awhile for me to get up, and I'm not just feeling misplaced guilt.  However, I've taken on a collaboration of sorts with the next few chapters (it's so much fun) and my computer hasn't been behaving.  As in, I've had to buy a new one and access to all my files was a bit difficult there for a moment.  However, now I'm completely hooked up again, and the next chapter is ready to be posted except for a few modifications.**

**_IMPORTANT:_**  This chapter and the next were originally planned to be one chapter.  However, so much came up, so much information I loved had to be given, that I split them into two chapters.  This one is events from the point of view of good little English citizens, and the next will be from the point of view of the pirates involved in this story.  I must give much thanks to bobo3 right now for letting me borrow her little apple-seller *wink* who you will get to meet in greater depth in the next chapter.  Girl, you rock so much, and I love working with you.****

**Ok, that was it.  Read on, and be looking for the next installment on Sunday.**

**Author's thanks at the end.**

********************************************************************

"Wake up, Freddy."  Grace shook her sister-in-law's shoulder gently.  "We've reached port."  The door to the cabin opened.  She glanced over her shoulder to see Marcus standing in the doorway with two of his men.  He'd carry his sister to the lifeboat himself, but once they reached the wharf, his time would be taken up with acting as a buffer between Jack and the rest of the garrison stationed in Port Royal.  The two sailors he had with him had been chosen for their gentleness, and they'd be the ones carrying Winn from the launch to the carriage, and from the carriage to the house.  "Freddy, we need to go."  Grace would have let the other woman sleep if she hadn't thought that Winn would prefer being aware of what was going on around her.  If she tried to struggle in her condition, she'd do more harm than good.

   Slowly Winn's eyes fluttered open.  For several moments of consternation she glanced around the large cabin, her eyes a bit unfocused.  Eventually they came to rest on Grace, and the puzzled look only deepened.  "Grace?"  Her voice was a rough croak, worn down from hours of moaning and a lack of water.  "Wha –"  She didn't manage to finish the thought.

   "It's alright, Freddy.  You're safe."

   "My baby . . . ."

   "You child is fine for the time being, and will continue to be so as long as you take things easy for the next few months.  How are you feeling?"  Grace sincerely hoped that was true; Winn was still hovering around the point that things could turn ugly at any moment.

   "Tired.  Sore.  Where's Ja –"  Grace shifted before Winn could finish the question, revealing their military audience.  Winn's eyes filled with aversion, obviously aware enough to know that if her husband was around, he was under the rough care of men like these.  Turning her head to the wall, she pleaded, "Don't let them touch me, Grace.  I won't be touched by men who would see my . . . my rescuer . . . hanged."

   "How about your brother?  Could you stand him?"  The two women had both been unaware of Marcus' approach.

   "Marcus . . . ."  Winn's voice was filled was a sigh of relief as she once again turned her head towards her family.  "I didn't recognize you."

   "Are you sure that's all it was, Freddy?"  Marcus didn't quite believe her explanation.  Winn had seen him in his captain's uniform many times and had never had a problem identifying him.

   If she'd been sitting up, Winn would have shrugged.  "It's hard to recognize anyone when you can't see more than an arm's reach away."  She'd be so glad when the last of the bloody poison was out of her system.  Her eyes slipped shut.  "I'm so tired."

   "I know.  Do you think you could manage being moved around at the moment?  I want to get you home as soon as I can."

   "We're at Swallows Rest?"

   "No, our home in Port Royal."

   Winn shook her head.  "Don't want to go to Port Royal.  They don't like pirates. Try to hang 'em.  Jack won't be able to visit me there."  It was obvious that her mind was wandering.

   "Don't you want to see Elizabeth and Will?"  Winn paused, apparently thinking about the question, and she eventually gave a slight nod of her head.  "Then we need to get you off the ship, Winn."  Winn sighed before giving her head another nod.

   Backing away, Grace watched as Marcus moved in and carefully scooped his sister up into his arms.  She gasped in pain, her abdominal muscles still sore from their long ordeal, but she didn't cry out.  For a moment, her body remained tense, as if she was waiting for the torture of the past few days to resume.  But when it didn't, she slowly relaxed muscle by muscle, until she was nothing more than so much dead weight in Marcus' arms.

   Taking care to walk as smoothly as possible to avoid jostling the burden in his arms, Marcus walked out of the room and out onto the deck.  As they left the shade of the room behind them, Marcus warned his sister, "Careful, the sun is bright."  She didn't say anything, but when he glanced down he saw that her eyes were no more than slits in her face.  Winn, in true Morgan fashion, was refusing to appear as weak as she really was in public.  He felt her spine stiffen and her shoulder dig more insistently into his chest as she tried to sit upright in his arms, refusing to appear the helpless invalid.  He could tell how much her dignity cost her by the way she bit her lip and her hands clenched in her lap.

   Halfway across the deck, Winn urgently whispered in his ear, "Stop."

   He did, puzzled by the request, but her urgency became clear when the clamor on the deck separated into two distinct sounds.  One was the normal clamor of a working ship – men calling out and joking with one another, the creak of the canvass sails, the groaning of rope pulled tight, the raucous calling of gulls, the sound of water against the hull – but the other was one he was unaccustomed to hearing on his ship.  It was the sound of men jeering and yelling with dislike.  He turned, knowing what he would find and determined to put a stop to it.  "What's the meaning of all that racket?"  

   The crowd of men gathered near the hatch leading from the lower decks all stopped and turned his way.  There was Jack, supported on two sides by redcoats who seemed to be doing their best to keep the hecklers at arm's length but were having a hard time of it.  The men who sailed under the young Morgan captain had the decency to look ashamed, even if it was only being caught in the act of behaving badly.  Marcus could understand their motivation – too many of them had seen the result of pirate attacks, had know comrades killed in the line of duty while fending off the vermin, and still others had escaped to tell tales of bloodthirsty pirates themselves.  However, there was a certain decorum that must be followed, even aboard a ship, and harassing a prisoner was not it.

   Keeping his voice low and jovial in a dangerous manner, Marcus said, "Unless the lot of you wish to spend the next weeks looking for new employment, I suggest you get back to your work and let those two soldiers do theirs."  Jack was doing his best to look nonchalant, but Marcus caught the man's sly wink before the woman in Marcus' arms took his attention.

   Winn herself was trembling, whether with exhaustion or outrage at seeing the treatment her husband was garnering Marcus couldn't tell, but he'd place good money on outrage.  "Promise me something, Marcus.  Please," she begged in a tone just below a whisper.

   "What is it, Freddy?"

   "Promise me that you'll do all you safely can to help him.  Promise me."  Her voice was thick with tears.

   "Of course."

   She nodded, her eyes never wavering, never mind that she couldn't do much more than make out the cherished form of her husband.  "Tell him . . . tell him I'm still fighting."  Her body was losing its fight to say tensed, and Winn's head came to rest under his chin.  "I'm still fighting."  As Marcus looked at her husband, he got the idea that Jack already knew.

   "Thank you for taking care of that little disturbance, Captain.  It is unbecoming of any man in the service of the king to behave in such a manner."  While brother and sister had been talking, the commodore had come up behind them unnoticed.  His words may have been addressed to Marcus, but the other man saw that the Commodore's eyes were locked on his eccentric passenger.

   It was several moments before Norrington took his steady gaze from Jack with what appeared to be some measure of reluctance.  But before Marcus could confirm his suspicions, his commanding officer had switched his focus to Winn.  "I'm thankful to see that you're awake, Miss . . . ?"

   "Smith.  Winifred Smith.  And actually, it's Missus, should it please you, sir."  Marcus hid a smile.  Not only was Smith the favorite name for those who didn't wish to share their true name, but it had been their mother's maiden name.  He had to admit that Winn was doing a good job hiding her true feelings, but then, she was probably too worn out to actually get mad.

   "Ah.  It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Smith.  Tell me, where is your husband so that we may contact him?  I'm sure that he'd be relieved to hear that you're safe."

   "My husband?"  Winn hadn't been thinking that far ahead when she'd corrected the man, and playing the young, desolate widow seemed a bit to close to truth at the moment.  Her eyes flickered between the Commodore and her husband as she tried to decide that to say.

   Norrington caught her uncertainty and the wavering direction of her gaze.  "Is your husband alive, Mrs. Smith, or is there something you'd like to tell us?"

   She shook her head.  "No, he's alive for the time being.  He's a captain.  Deals with merchant goods mostly.  I'm afraid that his ship was severely damaged recently."

   "He's alive?"  Winn nodded and Norrington relaxed minutely.  Marcus wondered what was going through his superior's head, but didn't have time to ponder the question for too long.  Winn's breathing was growing shallow again, so he thought it best to postpone Norrington's questions for another time.

   "Commodore, I thought we agreed to let the poor woman be until she was a bit stronger?"  Marcus turned to his wife, relieved that she was there to make the objection.  It would have sounded odd coming from him.  "Now, Mrs. Smith may be awake, but she's in no condition to be answering questions.  Right now I'd like to get her to my house as soon as possible so she can be a bit more comfortable."

   "Of course, Mrs. Morgan.  Please forgive me," the man bowed his head in apology.  "Mrs. Smith, I hope you have a speedy recovery.  Captain Morgan, please join me once you have the ladies settled."  The commodore bowed to the women before moving away to take care of other matters.

    Not that Winn paid him any attention after Grace had entered the conversation.  All her focus at the moment was spent on trying to stay awake.  Part of her was urging her to sleep, but a stronger part was protesting that she couldn't look sick around Jack.  He'd done too much to get her to help – she couldn't scare him by looking like she might still keel over at any time.  _Fight.  Have to fight._

   Her internal battle lasted through Marcus settling her into the boat and Grace talking a spot at her side.  She didn't notice the arm that wrapped around her or the shoulder that pillowed her head.  All she could see was Jack on the deck, surrounded by people who didn't understand.  "They don't understand."

   "Understand what?"

   Why did Grace sound so worried?  "What he did."  Winn didn't notice that the boat was being lowered.  Her body had felt enough odd sensations in the past days that she no longer paid them any mind.  Instead she watched as the blur that was her husband was made to climb into another boat.  To her frustration his shape kept getting smaller, and that's when she realized where she was; in a boat, surrounded by the very men who were holding Jack captive.  

Marcus watched his sister and wife from his position near the front of the boat that was conveying Norrington, Jack, several guards, and himself to the wharf.  Earlier that morning, Grace had commented that it would be easier for all involved if they were able to tie up at the docks, and he agreed.  The trip would certainly be less harrowing for Winn in particular if that were possible.  But it wasn't.  There was an English merchantman tied up at the docks that hadn't been expected.  It had been raided by Spanish pirates, and seeing as how this had been the nearest port, the port officials hadn't declined it a berth. But that did mean that the _Redemption_ had to take anchor out in the harbor.

   It wasn't long however, before the small convoy of lifeboats had reached the docks.  Both Marcus and Norrington watched as Winn had be lifted out of the boat.  It was hard to tell if she was still conscious, and Marcus had to fight the urge to glance at Jack to gauge the man's reaction.  He couldn't appear to have too much to do with the man if he hoped to help him.  Norrington on the other hand, had no such qualms.  He turned in the boat and studied Jack as if he were going to give something away, that he was going to react in some manner to the sight of a woman he had supposedly harmed in a way that would either support or refute whatever suspicions he held about Jack's part in all this.  Jack, knowing that one wrong glance could give away too much simply met the Commodore's eyes, not even glancing at Winn as she was hauled up the short distance to the dock on the shoulder of one of Marcus' men.  

   It looked decidedly uncomfortable her brother decided.  He could see that his wife was near exploding with temper at the maneuver though, and he realized that the position may not be the best for a pregnant woman who had nearly lost her child.  He'd have to talk to the man about listening to Grace when she was acting as the primary caregiver for pregnant women.  What did men know of such things?  They were better off acting under the direction of a woman who had not only helped deliver children, but had bore five herself.   However, he couldn't help but smile when Grace scrambled up after the man and took charge of her sister-in-law, a foreboding look on her face.  Maybe he wouldn't have to talk with the man after all.

   Next it was their turn.  Marcus and Norrington climbed out of the boat first, then waited as first the sailors and then one of Jack's guards disembarked.  Next came Jack and then his other guard, both of them watching the man as one watches a poisonous snake.  They suspected him of being capable of attempting escape, and Marcus had to applaud their intelligence.  If it hadn't been for Winn, Jack would have made himself scare ever so long ago.

   "Marcus."  The captain and the commodore both turned when Grace called to her husband.  Marcus raised an eyebrow, silently asking what she and Winn were still doing here.  She should have bustled Winn into the waiting carriage as soon as they were both on dry land.  He doubted that his sister was even going to be able to stay on her feet for much longer; her face was pale and sweat was starting to bead it, and she was weaving dangerously on her feet even as she leaned on Grace.  One of the sailors that Marcus had assigned to her tried to lend a steadying hand, but she feebly shook it off, apparently sticking to her decision that she didn't want to be touched by any person that might wish her husband harm.

   Grace knew what her husband was thinking, but she simply discarded the look.  Even while barely conscious, Winn was a stubborn force to be reckoned with.  She had decided that she wanted to see Jack, and Grace wasn't going to argue.  At least not yet.  She'd have to eventually, but right now she had other things to attend to.  "Will you lend me one of your cabin boys?  I'd like to summon a midwife and another woman I know who might be of service."  

   Marcus nodded, realizing that what Grace really wanted to do was contact the Turners.  He looked around, trying to spot one of the urchins that had come out from England to serve as cabin boys.  He only spotted one to his not-too-great surprise – Port Royal was still mostly unexplored for them.  "Tom."  The boy he named came over.  "Mrs. Morgan wishes you to run some errands for her.  You are to do as she tells you without delay or dawdling.  When she no longer requires your aide, you're free to do as you wish with the rest of the afternoon."  The boy whooped and ran over to his captain's wife, eager to learn his mission so that he could get to his free-time sooner.

   Grace gave the boy her requests, listened as he repeated them to her, and then sent him off.  Next she turned to her recalcitrant sister-in-law and started leading her to the waiting carriage, moving slowly so Winn could keep up.  Winn threw but one last look over her shoulder to her husband before focusing on keeping her legs underneath her.

   "Captain, if there's nothing holding you up, can we proceed to the garrison?  I think it would be best for all concerned if we got Sparrow under lock and key as soon as possible."

   "Thought I was already under lock and key, Commodore."

   Norrington turned to his cheeky prisoner.  "Until your input is requested, it would be in your best interests to keep your comments to yourself, Mr. Sparrow."  The group set off, the two ranking officers ignoring Jack's quiet mumbles about how it was '_Captain Sparrow.'_

   They hadn't gotten far, no more than a few hundred feet, before they were accosted by a small street urchin selling apples.

   "Hello sirs!  Got me four nice shiny apples!  Selling them for only a pound each!  Please sirs, I got a mother and four sisters to feed!  They're ripe and ready for eating!"  The boy must have been somewhere around twelve or thirteen, for his stature was slight and he still had the voice of a young boy.  He danced around in front of Norrington and Marcus as if he suspected that he might get his ears boxed for his impertinence.

   The two men came to a halt, Marcus watching with interest as Norrington eyed the boy with the same air that he watched Jack – with a mixture of impatience, irritation, and humor, as if he were annoyed by the fact that the person in front of him had the ability to make him want to let down his stiff guard for a moment.  The boy caught the Commodore's gaze and the hopeful look on his face grew with exaggeration.

   "Please sir, just one apple…only a pound."

   The asking price was nearly eight times what the fruit was worth, and all listening knew it.  "What is your lowest price?"  Marcus wasn't surprised that Norrington was going to buy an apple.  Somewhere beneath the uniform, the gold braid, and the powdered hair lurked a rather generous man.

   "Eight pence."

   "Two."

   The boy narrowed his eyes as if he suspected Norrington of trying to cheat him.  "Six."

   "Three."

   "All right, four is my final offer."

   "Four pence it is."  Norrington pulled out his purse and gave her the agreed amount.

   "Thank you sir, thank you so much!"  The boy held out four apples.  They were in remarkably good condition for a street waif.  He must have stolen from a street vendor somewhere, but neither man commented on it.  "Take whichever you prefer, sir."

   Norrington looked over them for a moment, then picked the largest, nodding and continuing on.  Marcus wanted to stay and see what else the boy would do, but continued walking as well.  Behind him he could hear the boy ask, "Oh, a prisoner! What was your crime, sir? Get caught stealing a pie off of a window?  Or was it cross-dressing?"  Marcus held in a laugh.

 "Grace, we came as soon as we heard your message.  What's wrong?  What's happened with Jack?"  Grace heard the Turners stop as soon as they caught sight of who was lying her guest bed.  "Winn!  Oh dear lord, what's happened?"  Elizabeth rushed to the bedside, reaching out to touch to her friend, but at the last moment she jerked her hands back.  "What's wrong?"  There were tears shimmering in her eyes.

   Grace rubbed her forehead and sighed.  "It's a long and complicated story, Elizabeth."  Will came up to stand beside his wife, shock as clear on his face as it was on hers.  "But the long and short of it is that Winn's pregnant."  The faces of her audience both paled considerably at this news.  

   "Surely that shouldn't be enough to make her look as if she'd on death's doorstep," Elizabeth breathed. 

   "No, it isn't.  And to all accounts, she was well enough to go wandering all over the Caribbean after her husband up until a few days of go."  This was going to take some explaining.  "Why don't we have a seat?"  Grace gestured to a small table surrounded by four chairs.

   Reluctantly Elizabeth and Will followed her lead, Elizabeth still clinging to her husband's hand.  Once they were all seated, Grace didn't delay in telling her story.  "I'll leave most of the explanation to Marcus since he's the one who heard it from Jack.  But apparently Winn was poisoned by a man who blames her for his son's death.  He didn't give her enough to kill her, just enough to make her body reject the baby.  So far she'd fought it, and has seemingly won, but she's incredibly weak.  It'll be at least a week and a half before I'll allow her out of bed and more than that before she's able to stay up for an entire day.  Everything hinges on keeping her settled and as unworried as possible during these next few days."

   "And Jack?"

   Grace looked at Will.  "That's where I need your help.  Jack was with Winn when she was poisoned.  In fact, he was the bait this man used to lure Winn to his ship."  She took a deep breath before continuing, "Jack turned himself in to get Winn the help she needed.  Luckily, it was our ship that found them.  Marcus has done all he can to keep Jack in one piece.  You can imagine what a task that's been."

   The Turners remembered the boys remark about how Jack had apparently poisoned a lady.  "He can't actually believe that Jack poisoned Winn and then turned himself in to get help for her," exclaimed Elizabeth.  She knew that the Commodore was a man who firmly believed in upholding the law, but she also knew that there was more to him than that.

   Grace shook her head.  "No, I don't think he does believe that.  In the absence of any facts, he's doing his best to be just and do the honorable thing.  Things would be so much easier if Jack would simply tell him the truth."

   "Why won't he?"

   "He won't talk because he's afraid of casting suspicions of piracy on Winn, and he won't let us say anything or let us admit that we know Winn because he doesn't want Marcus to be hurt by talk.  If it was known that a rather sterling member of the king's navy were not just related to a rather famous pirate by marriage but to an infamous one by blood, the ramifications could be enormous.  And Marcus already treads a fine line by doing his best to never intrude upon family business.  But he is doing all he can to help Jack.  Or at least he's doing all that Jack will let him do, which isn't much."

   "Grace . . . ?"  The weak voice from the bed interrupted the conversation.  Winn sounded confused and a bit scared, as if she wasn't sure where she was or whose care she was under, which she probably didn't.  Will and Elizabeth turned in their chairs to look at Winn as Grace got up and went to her.

   "What is it, Freddy?  Are we being to loud?"

   Winn shook her head.  "I'm thirsty."

   This was the first time that Winn had asked for something to drink, and that gave Grace some hope.  She reached for the carafe sitting next to the bed and poured some water into a glass.  Looping an arm around the woman's shoulders, she helped Winn sit up while supporting the hand that came up to hold the glass with her free hand.  When Winn and emptied the glass, Grace helped her recline onto the pillows once more.

   "I heard you talking.  Who else is here?"

   "Elizabeth and Will.  Would you like to talk to them?"  Winn nodded and Grace beckoned the couple over.  Standing up, she told them, "I'll leave you alone for a bit.  If she starts acting disoriented or has trouble focusing her eyes, don't worry, it's just the tail-end of the poison she was given.  If she starts having trouble breathing, it's probably best to let the conversation stop until she's caught her breath.  Try not to keep her awake for too long, she still needs her sleep."  Having delivered these instructions, Grace left the room, closing the door behind her as quiet sobs started to weave a despairing pattern through the air.

"Captain."  The guard at the top of the steps that led down to the fort's jail came to attention with the ease and familiarity of long practice.  Marcus merely nodded to the man before going down the stairs to see his brother-in-law.

   Marcus had rarely been down to the fort's jail, usually having nothing to do with those who were incarcerated there.  He didn't know if anyone would comment on the growing frequency of his visits, but he was prepared to tell them that he was merely trying to get 'Mr. Sparrow' to tell him what had really happened the day they _Redemption had found him.  It wasn't precisely the truth, but Winn's pleas still rang in his ears.  He'd do what he could to see Jack come out of this in one piece._

   Marcus reached the bottom of the stairs and glanced around the room.  Besides Jack, there was but one man who was dead drunk and oblivious to the entire world keeping the several cells occupied.  Marcus would bet his new ship that the man had been brought in around dawn and would be released as soon as the alcohol wore off.  But for now he was asleep, which suited the captain's needs perfectly.

   Continuing down the row of barred rooms, Marcus paused before the last one.  There was his brother-in-law, in much the same nonchalant position as he'd last seen the man in.  "Jack, knock it off.  It's simply me."

   "Ah, Marcus, good to see you.  How's the family?"

   The younger man shook his head.  "In much the same state in which they arrived.  All except the children, I suspect.  Grace undoubtedly has her hands full trying to keep them out of their aunt's room.  But I'm reasonably sure she sent for some mutual friends to help her."

   Jack nodded.  "I won't keep you from your family from long, Captain Morgan.  I just need you do a single favor for me."

   "And what's that?"

   "See that this note gets delivered."  Jack stood up from his relaxed position against the wall and came over to the bars.  "Don't worry about who it needs to get to.  If I'm right, the recipient will come seeking you instead of things happenin' the other way around."

   "Jack –"

   "No, lad."  There was that serious tone that made Marcus wary again.  "That's all I require of you at the moment.  When I have a bit more of an idea of what I'm doing, then I might need some more assistance.  But until then, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your distance and see to your family." 

   Jack went back to the spot he'd been occupying.  Sliding down the wall, he resumed his carefully crafted pose.  "Don't be surprised if the person I expect to come for that is a bit rude.  Not all pirates are as courteous as I am.  Now scamper off like a good navy officer, and wait in your office until you've done what I've asked."

   Marcus shook his head in disbelief, but he turned to do as he was told.  At the last minute though, he remembered the message that Winn had asked him to pass along.  "She's still fighting."

   "I know, Marcus.  I'm counting on that."  Jack closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rough stones.  "Tell her to give no quarter and take no prisoners."

   Marcus pondered this message as he ascended the stairs and made his way to his office.  Jack obviously thought that whomever he was expecting would come here, and it would be a good idea to see what business had happened while he'd been away trying out his new ship.  He was standing with his back to the door, ruffling through some papers when a knock came on the door.

   "What is it?"  Marcus didn't have time to deal with people seeking him out if he was supposedly waiting for one of Jack's pirate cronies.  He could see the reactions such an entrance would generate.

   "Message for you sir, permission to enter?"  The voice sounded as if it belonged to a young boy.  If all that the child needed was to deliver a message and perhaps receive one to return to whoever had sent him, then Marcus supposed it wouldn't hurt to let the boy come in.

   "Permission granted."

   "What's the message?" Marcus asked, briefly looking up from the papers he was shuffling through.

   The boy wore a smile that broadened at his question.  "To answer my questions, Captain."  Marcus found himself looking down the barrel of pistol into a pair of grimly amused eyes.  "Why is Sparrow imprisoned?  Not another pathetic attempt at hanging him for 'piracy' is it?"  

   Wait, he'd heard that voice and seen those eyes recently.  His eyes narrowed and he kept a wary gaze on her.  "The apple vendor."

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**Author's Thanks: **to those of you who are wondering about the possibility of a Norrington/Winn connection . . . well, I'm not sure what to say other than if I tried such a thing, Winn would most likely try to kill me.  She's assured me that she is a one-man type of girl.  You'll all see the cause for Norrington's concern in chapter 24 or thereabouts.

Sorry about the brief thanks this time around.  It's been nearly a week since I've received some of this reviews, and there's been so many that I simply can't remember them all.  I'll try to be more in-depth next chapter.

**lilitaliandragon******

**VagrantCandy******

**bobo3**

**Alej******

**Mooney**

**jackfan2**

**TaraRose******

**EricaDawn******

**Daze19 – **I can't remember if you're a first time reviewer or not.  I seem to remember seeing your screen name before, but I can't for the life of me be sure.  So in that case, you can rock my fake pirate medallion, and if I've already given you something to rock, then you can return it.  How's that sound?  : )

**jigglykat******

**Eledhwen******

**BeBe******

**pirate-miss**

**Dawnie-7 – **Now, I'm reasonably certain that you _are _a new reviewer.  Am I right?  I hope so, because here's my bottle of pretty, shiny rocks for you to . . .well, rock . . . in my appreciation of your review.  : )

**Ashley**

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**SuzzieQue******

**Tierra**

**Akiva**** – I'm really pitiful, but I can't remember if I've ever heard from you before either.  My brain is pretty much fried from finals still.  But, just in case you're a new reviewer as well (which I think you are), you can rock my copy of PotC, which I'm reasonably sure just came in the mail today.  : )**

**Clover the Sea-Beast**

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**_bebe.flip – **ah-ha!  I _know I've never heard from you before!  : )  Thank you so much for taking the time to review, and you get to rock my . . . *glances around room, mumbles to self "I need more stuff"* . . . you can rock my . . . my awesome candle that has red, green, and yellow palm trees pressed into the sides._

**Dog Star – **I also know that _you're_ a new reviewer.  Also want to give you much thanks for taking the time to review.  You can rock my graduation tassel that's hanging on my wall.  How's that?  : )

**Vimana**** Feral – last certain new reviewer for the chapter.  I just got your review, and must say that I'm glad you submitted it.  I always love hearing from people who like reading what I like writing.  You can rock my pearl earrings, even though I need to get them repaired.  Seriously, I can't wait until Christmas and I have more stuff for people to rock.  I'm running low.  ; )**


	23. Through a Pirate's Eyes

**Author's Note: bet you didn't expect to see this so soon.  Don't get used to it. : )  This was originally supposed to be in the same chapter as the last, but that would have put me over the 12,000 word mark most likely, so I split them.  Just know that this is the same events as the last chapter, just from another point of view and in more detail.  **

**Expect the next chapter sometime late Friday night, early Saturday morning.  I'm reasonably sure of what I need to get into the next chapter, I just have a busy week.  *sighs***

**Before I go, big thanks and much admiration to _bobo3_ for lending Kendra's assistance.  I highly recommend that you go read her fic, Four-Sided Eyes.  Not only would you understand this a bit better, and Kendra's connection to Jack, but it's a good piece of work and a fun story to read.  So go do that.  Immediately.  Right after reading this chapter.  ^_^**

**Author's thanks at end.**

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While Jack would be glad to be free of the brig, he wasn't exactly looking forward to arriving in Port Royal.  As long as he stayed on the ship, he was safe to worry about Winn – the moment he set foot on land he was going to have to put his wife out of his head altogether and worry about himself.  _At least Norrington won't try anything until he knows exactly what to charge me with,_ he thought.  _The man may be as stiff as a mainmast, but at least he's fair.  Even when it pains him to be so._

   "Sparrow, let's go."  Jack looked up to see two guards at the door to the cell.  They were the very picture of military order and discipline.  Their dislike of having charge over him barely showed in their eyes.

   _Eh, I'll go easy on them, Jack thought as he ambled over the door.  The chains connecting his wrists rattled and clanked noisily as he crossed his arms over his chest.  "What can I do for you fine sirs this morning?  Or is it afternoon?  Hard to tell, bein' down here without any windows."  The men ignored him as they opened the cell._

   While he hated to be under anyone's control, Jack was the picture of the unconcerned seaman as he was led up to the main deck.  He hesitated as they tried to lead him onto the deck, well aware that he'd be unable to see for several moments after emerging from the dark.  The state of defenselessness that would put him in concerned him, but Jack didn't have much of a choice as the men on his sides were pulling him forward.

   The bright mid-morning sun hit his eyes, instantly blinding them as he'd known it would.  He squinted, to no effect, and stilled his body as he heard the grumbled complaints of a large group of people gathered around him.  The grumbling quickly escalated to outright insults and attempts to physically assault him, but his guards were well disciplined; they kept most of the malcontents at an arms length, although every once in awhile a blow would slip past their guard.  It hurt, but Jack had felt worse.  Winn had a fair arm on her when she was _really_ upset with him, although it had been a bit since she'd felt the need to slap him.

   "What's the meaning of all that racket?"  

   Jack tried not to slump in relief as the crowd of men gathered around him turned to face their captain.  He shook his head to dislodge his hair from the position it'd taken in front of his eyes before looking straight ahead at his brother-in-law.

   "Unless the lot of you wish to spend the next weeks looking for new employment, I suggest you get back to your work and let those two soldiers do theirs."  Jack knew the tone of a captain confident in his command, and that's the voice Marcus used now.  He wondered if the younger man had learned the voice from old Morgan, or whether it come naturally to members of his family.  Jack risked a sly wink in the man's general direction before he turned his full attention to the woman in Marcus' arms.  _Winn can certainly use that voice when she needs to.  Don't think she'd be able to manage it now though._

   His wife was trembling with exertion.  Jack could see that she was doing her best to appear well in front of her brother and in front of him, but she wasn't having much success.  Her face was pale and wan, her hair listless, and her eyes somewhat unfocused.  He doubted that she could even make him out from the rest of the men around him, but he could tell that she was making a valiant effort.  At best, Jack could say that she looked no worse than she had before he'd gotten her to her family.  At worst, he could say that she didn't look any better.

   The detained captain watched with shrewd eyes as Winn whispered something to Marcus.  Because her face was turned his way, he could tell what she was saying.

   _"Promise me something, Marcus.  Please."_  Jack wondered if he'd ever told Winn that he'd learned how to read lips at some point in his life, or if she had keep her face pointed towards him by accident.  Too bad her head was blocking his view of her brother's lips.

_   "Promise me that you'll do all you safely can to help him.  Promise me."_  He could see Winn losing her composure, could see the way her body had started trembling more violently, the way her mouth was quivering, the way her hands were fidgeting.  There she was, not even recovered from her ordeal of the past few days and she was using her strength to worry about him when she needed to be worrying about herself.  He'd have to take care of that.  Once he knew what he was going to do, he'd send her a message through Marcus.  

   He continued watching the conversation between the two siblings.  Marcus must have agreed to her request, because Winn nodded, still focused mostly on her husband.  Her lips barely moved as she said, _"Tell him . . . tell him I'm still fighting."  Jack saw his wife relax into her brother's hold, either willingly or because her body could no longer win the fight to be stubborn._  "I'm still fighting."_  As he moved his gaze from his wife, aware that he'd been watching her longer than was safe at the moment, Jack met his brother-in-law's eyes.  If he hadn't been able to read the message from Winn's own lips, he would have been able to from the expression on Marcus' face._

The trip from the _Redemption _to the Port Royal waterfront had been torture for Jack.  Not that he'd been physically uncomfortable, or at least, not any more uncomfortable than he'd been in the past.  No, his discomfort stemmed partially from the fact that he had to share a boat with a bunch of redcoats who'd sooner see a rope around his neck than shake his hand.  Another part came from the fact that Commodore Norrington, who was in the front of the small boat, was keeping an eye on him.  _It's ever so entertaining to annoy the man, but he's not as unintelligent as I wish him to be.  Jack knew that Norrington was the type of man you could fool with a trick once, and after that he'd be on the lookout for it again.  _I'll have to take that into account when I plan how I'm going to get out of this in one piece.__

   While Jack was thinking these things in one corner of his mind, and his mouth and eyes were moving rapidly, most of his mind was taken up with his wife.  She was in another boat ahead and someone to the side of his, and she didn't appear to be doing well.  He could tell that Grace was supporting her and Winn was accepting the help gratefully, something she rarely did for him let alone her family.

   When they reached the dock, things started moving along faster.  Jack had had to bite his tongue to keep from scolding the man who slung his wife over his shoulder.  That was no way to treat a pregnant woman, and certainly not one in Winn's condition.  The only reason he was able to keep quiet was that he saw the look on Grace's face; the lout wouldn't be getting off easily.

   And then it was Marcus and Norrington's turn to disembark, and then the sailors, and then one of Jack's guards, and then Jack himself.  Jack made a face as his feet came to rest on a surface that didn't require him to correct his footing and balance – he'd never understand landsmen.  Not that there wasn't a few he liked, he just didn't understand them.  Life on land was simply to predicable for his tastes.

   Then again, life had always enjoyed playing with Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Thank ye sir!"  The cheery youth smiled and tipped the oversized hat to the fruit vendor, tossing him a coin and entering the bustling crowd again.  Taking a bite of the apple and licking the extra juice up, the mischievous grin returned.  _Kendra of the _Dilettante_, pirate, captain, and thief on occasion. Lovely pastime._  She patted both of her coat pockets, assuring none of the four apples she'd swiped had fallen out.  _Five for one, not a bad deal.  Especially since all these vendors more than quadruple the price._

   She reached the docks and picked up her pace as she saw the British warship, a new one now, anchored in the harbor.  A few longboats were approaching and she hastily finished off the apple.  _Finally! I've been waiting here for three whole days!  Now . . . to find Sparrow.  Wonder how he got mixed up with this 'Morgan' woman, let alone allow himself to fall into such a trap?  Still as daft as ever, I see.  _She perched herself on one of the posts and smirked, while waiting for the ships to arrive.  _I'll need to find some reason to get close to them . . . . _ Glancing down at her bulging pockets, she grinned to herself.  "Sailors always do have a hankering for apples . . . it should work," she mumbled, pulling out the apples and balancing them in her small hands.  _Just need to wait for them to get close . . . and keep my cabin boy charm working . . . ._

   When the boats finally arrived she scanned over the host of the British navy, including Commodore Norrington, a captain and crew she did not recognize, two women – one seemingly very weak and sickly, the other tending her – and of course, Captain Jack Sparrow himself.  Ignoring the undoubtedly 'respectable' women for her old comrade, she jumped to her feet and put on the thick accent of a newly arrived Brit. 

   "Hello sirs!  Got me four nice shiny apples!  Selling them for only a pound each!  Please sirs, I got a mother and four sisters to feed!  They're ripe and ready for eating!"

   Kendra hurried next to the soldiers, slightly agitated to be reminded of her small stature, acting the part of the hungry, desperate boy who won't leave you alone until you push them away or just . . . buy something from them.  She hoped they'd decide upon the second. 

   Norrington did not sigh, but had he been even the least bit less composed she was sure he would have.  He paused and looked down at Kendra, who smiled all the broader. 

   "Please sir, just one apple…only a pound."

   "What is your lowest price?"

   "Eight pence."

   "Two."

   She narrowed her eyes. _He wants to haggle, eh?  Well, I'll haggle._ "Six."

   "Three."

   "All right, four is my final offer."

   "Four pence it is."  Norrington pulled out his purse and gave her the agreed amount.

   "Thank you sir, thank you so much!"  Kendra held out the four apples.  "Take whichever you prefer, sir."

   Norrington looked over them for a moment, then picked the largest, nodding and continuing on. 

   Kendra now dared to look at Jack, who was intently watching her.  He looked as if he'd been in a bit of a scuffle with one eye and the cheekbone under it bruised and his bottom lip split.  Kendra was upset but not overly concerned.  If the British had been intent on serious harm, he'd been in much worse shape.__

   "Oh, a prisoner! What was your crime, sir? Get caught stealing a pie off of a window?  Or was it cross-dressing?"

   Jack scowled at her, and grumbled in reply, "Talk to the captain of the ship I came in on, he'll tell you my crime if you still desire to know. Now scamper off lad, you've sold your apple."

   Kendra scoffed at him, crossing her arms and leaning closer to the nearest soldier.  "Rude fellow, isn't he?  Think he'd have the decency to say a few nice words . . . ."

   The solider nodded, glancing hungrily over at her apples, "You still selling those apples for four pence?"

   A grin came to her. "Of course, sir!  Pick the one you'd like.  Any other of you fine sirs want one?  Only four pence!"

   A few soldiers slipped under the Commodore and Captain's gaze and looked over her apples too.  Before long, Kendra was sixteen pence richer and rid of the apples.  She let Jack and the soldiers continue on, slowing her pace and fingering the change, mulling over the encounter.  _Jack was harsh . . . but not especially.  Something's unnerving him.  What was worrying him?  He kept the usual level of separation necessary to keep our past relationship secret.  "Talk to the captain of the ship I came in on, he'll tell you my crime if you still desire to know."  So . . . I need to look up this captain.  And have a word with him . . . ._  Her grin broadened.  _Captain of the HMS _Redemption _. . . prepare for Captain Ken._

Jack couldn't have been happier when Norrington had decreed that he needed time alone to think about the actions that had led to his incarceration in Port Royal's prison.  He'd wasted no time setting his newly formed plan into action.

   It was simple, really.  Fate had just provided him with the perfect resource to carry out the first step – making sure that Winn was as safe as he could make her in his absence.  The little apple-seller was no less than Kendra of the _Dilettante – mistress of disguise.  Thinking about the incident he'd inadvertently gotten involved in when he'd met the lass – or lad as he'd thought then – he grinned.  He'd had the __Pearl back for scant months before meeting the pugnacious female captain who could easily pass for a young boy.  That had been a mess, but one worth remembering.  Somehow the ones that failed to fall for him always were._

   Shaking his head to clear it of nostalgia, Jack pulled several wrinkled sheets of paper out of one of his many pockets, and a stub of a pencil out of another.  Writing his request was going to be the easy part.  Getting the request to Marcus so the captain could pass it along would be a bit more difficult.  Not impossible, merely challenging.

   But fate seemed to be with him.  Less than ten minutes after finishing his dispatch, the distinctive sound of boot-heels on stone rang on the stairs.  Unless Jack was completely mistaken, that was Marcus coming down to ensure that it was safe to leave Jack for the night.  Settling back against the wall of his small cell, Jack waited for his assumption to be proved.

   "Jack, knock it off.  It's simply me."

   _Lad, you're much too predictable.  That could get dangerous.  I think it's best that I encourage you to stay away for a bit.  _"Ah, Marcus, good to see you.  How's the family?"

   The younger man shook his head.  "In much the same state in which they arrived.  All except the children, I suspect.  Grace undoubtedly has her hands full trying to keep them out of their aunt's room.  But I'm reasonably sure she sent for some mutual friends to help her."

   Jack nodded.  "I won't keep you from your family from long, Captain Morgan.  I just need you do a single favor for me."

   "And what's that?"

   "See that this note gets delivered."  Jack stood up from his relaxed position against the wall and came over to the bars.  "Don't worry about who it needs to get to.  If I'm right, the recipient will come seeking you instead of things happenin' the other way around."  Aye, if Kendra was as resourceful as she'd been as his cabin boy, a garrison with three times the men would be hard pressed to keep her away.

   "Jack –"

   "No, lad."  The offer of help in his brother-in-law's voice was tempting, but they weren't at Swallows Rest.  As far as Jack was concerned, they were in enemy territory, and if Marcus tried to do too much, then he was just as dangerous as the enemy.  Someone straddling the fine line the captain was had to be careful.  "That's all I require of you at the moment.  When I have a bit more of an idea of what I'm doing, then I might need some more assistance.  But until then, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your distance and see to your family."  _Stay with Winnie.  She needs her family right now._

   Jack went back to the spot he'd been occupying.  Sliding down the wall, he resumed his carefully crafted pose.  "Don't be surprised if the person I expect to come for that is a bit rude.  Not all pirates are as courteous as I am.  Now scamper off like a good navy officer, and wait in your office until you've done what I've asked."

   Marcus shook his head in disbelief, but he turned to do as he was told.  Before he'd passed out of range, however, he offered over his shoulder, "She's still fighting."

   Why did he suddenly feel so old?  So weary?  Jack had dealt with responsibility before, but never this level of anxiety, and it was wearing on him.  "I know, Marcus.  I'm counting on that."  Jack closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rough stones.  

   _Winn._  Knowing how private his wife was, and being a private man himself, Jack was leery of passing along a sentimental message through Marcus.  He wasn't even sure he would be able to pass along a sentimental message to her face.  But he needed to say something, give her some word of his to hang onto.  "Tell her to give no quarter and take no prisoners."

   Jack felt exhaustion tugging on him as the sound of Marcus' footsteps faded into the distance.  Deciding that he'd be better able to plan once he'd rested, Jack let himself fall asleep.****

Pulling at her coat sleeve for a moment, Kendra scowled at her current situation.  _Here I am, walking into danger.  All for Sparrow.  This better be worth it.  Or else he'll hear no end of it.  If he still has his head.  _Breathing deeply, she kept her eyes sharp for anyone suspicious.  Every fiber of her being was screaming for her to flee or fight.  _Keep yourself calm, Kendra . . . you need your wits here.  If you slip up and bring the entire British navy down on you . . . . _ She took another huge gulp of air as she stopped outside the temporary office of Captain Marcus Morgan.  _How many Morgan's are there? Really, this is near ridiculous . . . ._

   She pulled back her shoulders and assumed the proper posture of a new recruit, rapping on the door. 

   "What is it?" a man asked.

   "Message for you sir, permission to enter?" 

   "Permission granted."

   Kendra patted her concealed pistol and knife, not mention the three other knives she had hidden in her boots, pants, or elsewhere.  Nodding to herself, she opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her.  Smiling at the man, she walked up to the desk and put her arms behind her back, pulling the pistol out of the back of her pants. 

   "What's the message?" Marcus asked, briefly looking up from the papers he was shuffling through.

   Her smile broadened. "To answer my questions, Captain."  She pulled the pistol out and pointed it at his chest, cocking it as she gained his full attention.  "Why is Sparrow imprisoned?  Not another pathetic attempt at hanging him for 'piracy' is it?"

   His eyes narrowed and he kept a wary gaze on her.  "The apple vendor."

   "Aye, that was me. Now, hurry up with it. Why did Sparrow direct me to you?"

   Marcus put a hand into his coat, "I'm only passing along a note, which I assume is meant for your enlightenment."

   She nodded and kept a steady aim.  Relief washed over her as he drew out a folded piece of paper, setting it on the desk and sliding it towards her.  Kendra took the note and slipped it into her inside coat pocket. 

   "Thank you, Captain Morgan.  Hope the rest of your day is pleasant.  Oh, and I would greatly appreciate it if you kept my visit as our little secret."  With a nod, she uncocked the pistol and backed up to the door.  "Nice doin' business with you, sir."  Kendra winked, but before she could slip out the door, the navy officer said something that made her pause.

   "Good luck."

   She examined him, searching for any hidden motive or mockery, but found none.  For some reason, this man whom she'd just threatened, was actually wishing her luck.  However, the reason behind the oddity was one best saved for later.  With a curt nod, Kendra slipped out the door. 

_   Okay, now a hasty escape._  Kendra smiled and showed deference to all of her supposed superior officers, being careful to keep her anxiety down.  _Just a bit further and then I'll be free of this stuffy uniform and I can read this note in private.  A note . . . from Sparrow apparently._  Thinking about the odd exchange she'd just had, she thought to herself, _Maybe Sparrow has more friends in high places than I thought. _

   She soon reached the main part of town and slipped into an alley, pulling off the jacket she'd found.  Kendra quickly transferred the note, knives and other necessities into her pants, tossing the jacket to the ground.  Scoffing at it, she continued out again, mussing up her hair to ease her nerves and look her new part.  A bustling tavern wasn't difficult to find and she slipped inside, passing on the food and drink.  A small table was empty in a back corner and she headed for it, scowling with such a dark look that the boy who was about to sit down hesitated and then hurried away.  _Good, I claimed it first._

   She plopped down into the chair and propped her feet up, pulling out the note after scanning the crowd for anyone suspicious.  _Only drunkards and a few wenches.  Nothing more.  Good._  Unfolding the note, she felt her heart start to race.  _Calm yourself fool, he's nothing to get worked up over anyway.  Things of a romantic nature were never possible between us and no man will ever see me as attractive.  Simple as that._  Sighing again, she set in for a careful examination of his note.

   _Pierre__, _this first salutation was crossed out in favor of another.  Apparently Sparrow had thought better of reminding her of the time he'd been a well-meaning thorn in her side.  The letter continued farther down.

_   Kendra, Captain Ken, _Kendra nodded in approval.  Anyone trying to catch a glimpse of what she was reading – should there be anyone around who could read – would assume that the letter was addressed to two people, not two names for the same person.  _I must admit that while I'm a mite puzzled at seein' you, your presence is a bit of a relief.  I always did think you were a bit too good with a blade to be a simple cabin boy.  Ye had a sharp eye too.  I always did appreciate that in a person._  Kendra rolled her eyes at the obvious complements.  The man wanted something.  A hand in escaping the king's justice, no doubt.  Did he doubt that she'd give it?  She kept reading.  _And to all accounts, a bloody good captain.  I hear the _Dilettante _has been prospering in the past few years._  Kendra wished he'd get to the point.

_   But it's not the present that I wish to be talkin' about.  I know that while your sojourn on the _Black Pearl_ wasn't entirely pleasant for you, you did leave with an understandable love for m'ship.  It's that fondness I'm calling on now._

_   I'm afraid that I've run in to bit of a jam.  The _Pearl_ is near destroyed.  Does that shock you?_  No, it infuriated her.  Kendra well understood the love for a ship, and she'd come to admire the _Pearl_ for the beauty she was during her weeks aboard it.  With a sense that things were only going to get worse from this point on, she kept reading.  _If that didn't, then hold on to your cutlass.  I don't know if you've kept tabs on me as I have on you (call it a fondness for an old crewmate), but I got married a few years back.  _Kendra's eyes grew wide with surprise and amazement.  She hadn't heard that bit of gossip.  She marveled at the thought of Jack Sparrow bein' settled and tied to a single woman.

_   To make a long story short, or at least shorter, she's the only granddaughter of Henry Morgan._  If her eyes hadn't been bulging already, they were now.  How did Sparrow do it?  How had he found a descendant of _the_ Henry Morgan, one of the most famous pirates ever?  Kendra knew everything about the man from his earlier days of raiding ships along the English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese coastlines, to his historic sack of Panama City.  Now thoroughly interested, Kendra kept reading.  _And, being a pirate in blood if not entirely in spirit, she made a few enemies.  One of these men, a merchant by the name of 'Gandolfi,' was upset enough to try something._

_   We'd caught wind of his search for her, and I left her with her family where I thought she'd be safe.  And for a time she was.  But then blasted man came after the _Pearl _and managed to get hold of yours truly by means even a pirate would be ashamed of.  The only reason the _Pearl_ made it through the attack was he needed to get news of my capture to Winnie to lure her to him.  Any other woman would have stayed put, but I had to find the one who wouldn't.  _She could hear the wry amusement and grudging admiration in his voice, and it heartened her.  If Jack could still make light of such things under the circumstances, then he couldn't be in too bad a shape.  _But that's beside the point.  What is of importance is that the fool woman came after me while several months pregnant.  Can you see me as a father?_  No.  She could honestly say that say that she couldn't.  What was Jack supposed to do with a kid?_  I'm losing focus again._  Kendra could understand that – it seemed Jack had more to worry about this time around than his own neck.

_   Gandolfi, upon learning the news, decided that the best revenge for the for the death of his son – who was accidentally killed in a raid that Winn led – would be the death of Winnie's child.  He poisoned her to speed along the process, then set us adrift in a lifeboat, leaving me with the option of either getting Winn to safety or saving my own skin.  I suppose you can guess which choice I made.  But, on with my reason for bein' glad to see you. _

_   I've a request, Captain Ken of the _Dilettante._  You may hate me for asking, but I'm going to anyway.  I want you took look after my wife.  I wouldn't and don't trust just anyone to look after her and my child.  I don't even fully trust her family.  They're a sharp bunch, and the Captain is surely as ingenious as he ever was, but they're all much too visible.  I want Winn watched by someone not so obvious.  And while I hate to point it out, you do have a tendency to not only be overlooked, but underestimated as well.  _

_   The bottom line is that I can't trust that Winnie is safe until I've taken care of Gandolfi, and I can't do that until I've bought myself enough time to do so.  I'll be doin' something potentially risky to get myself that time, and I won't be able to come back to her as soon as I'd like.  If I can't be there to protect her myself, then I want my wife to be as safe as I can make her in my absence._

_   I hope you'll do this.  If not for my sake, then for the sake of an innocent and the opportunity to meet the famous Captain Morgan.  Should you wish to, you can send a reply the same way you received this._

_      Jack Sparrow_

_P.S. – if you're considering taking yourself elsewhere to avoid getting caught up in this mess, then let me remind you that I helped you get back your ship.  I think this should even the balance._

_Helped get the _Dilettante _back, my foot.  The man did nothin' but be at the right place at the right time in the same way Norrington managed to.  Though Norrington was none too pleased with the turn of events. Plus I paid my debt. _She felt a blush come on to her cheeks and ignored the thought. _ If anyone owes anyone anythin', it's Sparrow who's going to owe me.  Big.  And he'll pay before he gets the chance to try to talk his way out of it._  Her outrage over his closing remark slipped from her mind in favor of other thoughts.

   Kendra hadn't expected the missive to be that long.  Here she was, reading the apparent end of the letter, and there was still another page for her to look at.  Setting the last page of writing facedown on top of the other, she was surprised to find a map.  Most of the islands were unnamed, but she was still able to identify them.  Apparently Sparrow had a bit of artistic talent hidden in his deceiving mind.  One island on the outskirts of Great Inagua was marked more prominently than it's neighbors.  Tilting the page to better catch the feeble light of the candles, Kendra read, _Osprey Point.  Take berth in the town – they're used to pirates, then go to Swallows Rest.  Present the letter as a pass and simply say that I sent you to help out Winn.  It doesn't matter what guise you use.  Just keep a sharp eye for flamingos._

   Her eyes were wide and she stared for a moment longer.  Her mind was having trouble grasping what she'd just read.  There was too much information, and too much of it was unexpected for her to believe it readily.  _He wants me to do _what_ for him?_  _He can't really . . . well, I truly doubt he'd go this far for a joke.  Let alone get caught by Norrington only to be imprisoned again.  It may be a sport for the most demented pirates to test how many prisons they can escape, but it doesn't last long.  And there were those rewards posted all over the __Spanish Main__ . . . let alone that one sailor who had joked about turning Sparrow in to the Brits.  I doubt he'd boast of such a thing if it weren't true.  Everything seems just a bit too realistic.  _She scanned over the note again.  _He's daft . . . but . . . ._  Kendra leaned back in her chair again and stared at the ceiling, her sharp bronze orbs flashing in agitation as her beleaguered mind made the connection between the 'Winnie' of Jack's letter and the sickly woman on the docks.  _That poor woman . . . poisoned.  Most likely castor bean – enough upstairs wenches use it to rid themselves of unwanted children.  And that Italian . . . ._  Her chair was about to tip too far and she felt her feet slipping off the table.  She instantly jerked herself back up to correct it.  Luckily everyone else was too drunk or raucous to notice the soft 'thud' of the chair and her boots as they hit the floor. 

   She scanned the room, and then the note once more.  _I may be going soft, but I can't pass this up.  Curse my strange little whims.  Never will understand it . . . or that man either.  Might as well write my reply._   Sighing, she found that she didn't have any paper nor anything to write with. Spotting a serving wench, Kendra got her attention and the girl walked over.

   "I've an odd request."

   The girl looked at her for a moment.  "What is it then?"

   "I'd like some paper and a quill with ink.  I'll pay a reasonable price," Kendra set her usually concealed pouch of coins on the table, glad to hear the distinct jingle it made.

   "Just a moment then," the girl hurried back to the bar.

   Letting out another sigh, Kendra rubbed her temples. _This has been one trying day . . .  _She then leaned back in her chair again, but was sure to keep all four of the chair legs firmly on the floor.

   "Here you are," the girl set down a few sheets of paper and the requested quill and ink. "Two pounds."

   Kendra reluctantly opened her pouch and pulled out the correct amount, handing it to the girl and then set to work, once more making sure no one was paying her any attention.  She scrawled out her reply, and then stretched, folding it and tying it with a piece of string she scrounged up, writing 'Captain Morgan' on the outside.

   Kendra got to her feet and folded up Sparrow's note again, hiding it in her sleeve, and strolled out of the tavern.  _Back to the fort again . . . hope that Captain Morgan is . . . .   _Kendra paused in the middle of the street, staring at the ground.  _He wished me luck . . . and he had Sparrow's note.  No doubt he's related to Sparrow's wife and . . . .  _She gritted her teeth, then searched for the alley she'd left the navy jacket in. 

"Sparrow!"  Jack decided it was best to ignore the guard for a bit.  He'd overheard Marcus and Norrington both tell the men in charge of his care that he was to be left alone unless they ordered otherwise.  If a guard were trying to get his attention at this time of night, then Marcus must have some information to pass along.  _It won't do to appear too eager._  So Jack settled down for the guard to become impatient enough to address him again.

    As he had expected, it didn't take the guard long to get fed up.  Army officers didn't like to be ignored, one of the reasons their uniform was bright red.  It couldn't be overlooked, and they couldn't be persuaded to change, even when the near blinding crimson gave anyone with a hint of eyesight an unmistakable target.  "Hey gallows-bait."

   Jack tipped his hat up from its position over his eyes, raising his eyebrows at the man.  "A polite, 'Captain may I have your attention?' would have been sufficient.  Not to mention a bit more polite.  Here I am, having turned myself over to the proper authorities without a hint of resistance, and still I'm treated as a common criminal."  He gave a theatrical sigh.  "'Tis my lot in life to be misunderstood I suppose."

   The guard snorted.  "Your lot in life," he scoffed.  "You're lucky the Commodore ordered us to leave you be, otherwise –"

    "I'd have a great deal of company.  I realize that, thank you.  Was there a particular reason you came down to visit me in my solitude?"  Jack could see the man's temper climbing by the moment.

   "Aye.  Captain Morgan sends his regards."  The man thrust a tied up note between the bars to Jack's cell.  "Likely it's a notice of when you can expect to meet your Maker."

   "I thought pirates went to the devil."  The guard spit at him but missed by several feet.  Then, cursing fluently under his breath, the man left, leaving Jack alone once again.

    Jack waited several minutes to make sure the surly guard wasn't inclined to immediately return before he got up and retrieved the papers.  He couldn't tell how long the missive was, as it was folded and tied with a bit of string.  However, his name on the front was not written in Marcus' handwriting.  He'd come accustomed enough to seeing the writing of his wife's relatives since they sent letters to Winn via whatever couple she stayed with during her trips to visit family.  But this was nothing like any of them.

   He grinned, realizing just whom the letter must be from.  To be sure, he hadn't expected the lass to have such nice handwriting – it didn't seem the sort of thing she would have the patience to sit down and perfect, but the proof was before his eyes.  Now he just had to find out what decision his erstwhile cabin boy had made.

   _Sparrow -_

_I see your situation.  And I must agree it is quite a tight spot you've gotten yourself into.  Sure am glad I'm not you right about now.  _Jack felt his mouth twist into a wry smile, Pierre – nay, _Kendra_ – had always had a impertinent attitude.  Apparently time hadn't sweetened it any.  Not that he'd expected it to have changed.  _Now, about this debt business.  About helping me get back my _Dilettante_; you simply had good timing, nothing more.  While I'm at it, though I'm not sure you're much in the reminiscing mood at the moment, I'd like to remind you that I paid my debt.  In full.  You know exactly what I mean, and I'll leave it at that._   Aye, he knew what she meant.  That had been a rather amusing debt to collect, not because of the position that it had placed the two of them in, but because it had flustered the height impaired woman so much.

_   With that straight, I suppose I could spare some of my time to get another debt from you.  I'll keep an eye on her.  'Winnie', wasn't it?  I only pray for your sake that she's not another Janette, and from the bit you've said of her, I don't think she'd be the type.  But if she is . . . you'll never live this down. _

_   But . . . you're now related to Henry Morgan by marriage?  You really are?  I . . . I just can't believe it.  And I'd like you to know that the opportunity to meet him is a large portion of the reason I'm doing this.  I may still be agitated about the whole 'Pierre' incident - must compliment you about changing your salutation, Sparrow - but I'm not so stubborn as to pass up an opportunity like this. _

_   Keeping tabs on me?  Just how in depth did they go, Sparrow?  I'd really like to know just what fables and gossip is going around about me.  Probably nothing like the ones that go around about you, but such is life.  And I'm sorry to let you down, but I haven't been keeping too close of tabs on you.  Just the basic rumors, you're still pillaging and plundering.  Being your piratical self. _

_   And speaking of pirates, what is this business about flamingos?  You mean those gangly pink birds that nearly come nose to nose with me?  What self-respecting pirate is afraid of an overgrown pigeon?  How much harm can they do?_

_      Captain Ken_

Though he had no real reason to feel so, Jack felt an incredible amount of relief.  The more people watching out for Winnie, the better.  And Kendra, short and invisible as she might be, was good.  There was only one thing she was mistaken about.  _But she'll find out about that blasted bird soon enough._

   With one less concern on his mind, Jack settled back more comfortably against the stone wall of his cell and replaced his hat over his eyes.  It wasn't as if his current lodgings boasted much of a view, and he couldn't be distracted by the monotony of torch-thrown shadows on the grey walls.  He had a rather important and risky escape to plan.

Kendra leaned against the railing of the small merchant vessel she'd found going to Tortuga.  She'd just read Jack's note for a second time and was currently looking out to sea, holding Jack's note tightly in one hand, her other clenched into a fist.

   "Castor beans…that poor woman."  Her gaze hardened and she set her jaw, letting her thoughts absorb her.

_   I'll get to meet Captain Morgan.  _The_ Captain Morgan.  Amazing . . . but . . ._  She sighed, slumping against the railing, having only to shrink down a few inches to rest her chin on it._  I'll also have to watch over Sparrow's pregnant wife.  Who's been given some rather harsh treatment.  I hope he knows I don't have much medical knowledge . . . or patience with 'delicate ladies.'  He didn't mention anything about me taking care of her health, just her safety, so that's a good sign.  All this . . . to keep her safe from some Italian merchant who would kill an innocent child.  _The tension returned in an instant._  How I want to pummel the man right now . . . Gandolfi . . ._  She breathed deeply, reveling in the salty tang, looking cold and capable of skewering a man for nothing more than a ill-timed curse.  _By tomorrow night every pirate I know will be searching for you . . . you despicable, disgusting, cowardly abomination . . . .  If Sparrow doesn't find you first, of course._  A smirk came onto her face, giving her an imp-like appearance her small frame complimented.  Her hair fluttered in the wind as it rushed by.  She sighed and flipped the tied-back bundle of hair over her shoulder once more, surprised as it reached her shoulder blades.  _It's gotten longer.  Might have to cut it soon. _

   "To think," she whispered to herself, "Sparrow…a father.  Must be some woman."

   So, with a sigh and a quick pivot, Kendra headed to her cabin for true privacy.  She'd felt some of the crew's eyes on her and given it no real thought until now.  She neared one sailor who was swabbing the deck and rather obviously watching her, even it was out of the corner of his eye. 

   Stopping next to him, she broadened her impish smile and turned to face the irritant.  "Purdy sunset, isn't it?"

   "Oh, uh," the sailor was caught off guard and abruptly nodded, "Yes, very pretty."

   Kendra scanned over the area of the deck he'd been working on.  "Missed a spot there, sir," she pointed to a large area he'd no doubt neglected due to staring at her.  "Might want to fix it 'fore the Cap'n comes round for inspections."  She bobbed her head, then continued on to her cabin.  _Now . . . on to my list of dues for Sparrow . . . ._

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	24. Tangled Web

**Author's Note: sorry about the long wait for this chapter.  But it's that time of year.  Lots of socializing, and shopping, and other activities.  Not to mention my birthday and PotC viewings.  ^_^  And houseguests.  Oh, and a lack of inspiration.  But I think I'm over that for the moment.**

**Please, tell me what you think of my characterization of Norrington.  He's another one of those people that it's hard to get a good read of.**

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"One question about your business, boy, or there's no use going.  This girl . . . how far are you willing to go to save her?"  Jack really didn't care _what was prompting the lad to go after his 'bonnie lass,' but something made him ask anyway._

   "I'd die for her."

   "Oh, good.  No worries then."  He didn't mention that he thought that the boy was an idiot for risking life and limb for a woman who most likely didn't and wouldn't return his regards any more than he mentioned the real reason that he was willing to let the lad tag along.  Not that he planned to leave the son of a friend to certain death at the hand of bloodthirsty, vicious, cruel, demented pirates.  But it was in his own best interests that the kid had an incentive of his own to chase after the _Pearl._

   The _Pearl_.  The chance to get his hands back on her was all that mattered.

   Thing shifted, as they often do in dreams, leaving Jack with a new scene to watch.  There was woman lying on a bed, moaning in pain.  The sound ripped though him, and four years worth of memories followed close on its heels.  Raiding the _Kestrel; fighting with Winn; staring down the barrel of a pistol into a pair of hard blue eyes; fighting with Winn; marrying Winn; Winn leaving him; Winn coming back to him; traveling with Winn; fighting with Winn; loving Winn . . . loving . . . loving led to other things at times._

   Winn was pregnant.  With his child.  She needed help.

   "How far are you willing to go to save her?"  Jack turned and found he'd been addressed by himself – or a version of his past self.  The one that had asked Will the same question.

   Almost by route, without realizing what he said or how true his words were, he answered, "I'd die for her."

   "That won't get the _Pearl back," the person he'd been five years before observed.  "Nor will it bring you much treasure."_

   "Not all treasure is silver and gold."  When had the sage wisdom he'd once handed out to Will come to apply to him?

   The other Jack shrugged and turned away, as if washing his hands of the man before him.

   Again the scene changed.  This time Jack was standing above a large crowd and there was a loud voice droning on in the background.  The voice was very official sounding.  It was also boring.  Jack reached up to scratch the back of his neck, but his hands were tied together at the wrists.  _Oh._

   Then there was a drum roll . . .

   . . . and a rope around his neck . . .

   . . . and air under his feet . . .

   . . . and nothing to stop his fall this time . . . .

   "_No_!"  His fall stopped before the rope could pull taught.  "You _promisedme.  You made an __oath . . . a _vow_.  You can't leave me.  Not now.  Not ever."_

   Why did the bloody woman have to argue with everything he said and did?  "Winnie, love, it's a little late to object."

   "Find another way, Jack.  Please.  I can't do this alone.  You have to keep your promise."

   "Winnie –"

   "What's wrong, Jack?  Cant you figure out a way to stay alive?  Have you finally run out of ideas?  Don't you love me enough to try?  Or are you all talk and no substance?"

   Jack felt his temper starting to boil.  "Are you trying to upset me, love, or is that merely a side benefit?"

   "Are you willing to fight for me yet?  Or do I need to keep goading?"  A new light entered her eyes.  "Or would a different type of persuasion work better?"  She swayed over to him, a flirtatious smile gracing her lips.  Gently, she took his head in both her hands, twining her fingers into the ropes of his hair, massaging his scalp.  She searched his eyes and face for a moment before drawing his head down and meeting his lips with her insistent ones.  One of her hands came down to stroke and caress his face and jaw.

   Jack could feel everything she was feeling – the pleasure at being close to him, the terror at losing him, the anger that he wasn't fighting, and the determination to remind him of what he was missing.  She stretched up onto her toes, leaning into him, and he remembered the feel of the life growing inside her body, and her desire for their child to know both its parents.

   Presently she pulled her head away from his and rested it against his chest, right over his heart.  "Say you'll try to find another way, Jack."

   He could do nothing else but acquiesce to her softly spoken demand.  "I'll try, Winnie."

  She looked up at him and smiled.  "That's all I needed to hear."

Jack woke up from his dream with a bit of a start.  He hadn't meant to fall asleep after reading the reply to his request for help, but the last three or so weeks of stress and captivity had taken their toll on him.

   However, he was glad that he had fallen asleep.  He'd once heard Winn mutter something along the lines of "dreams are answers to questions we don't know how to ask."  He was willing to believe that now – the past few hours had been nothing but frustration after frustration as no viable plan came to him.  Despite his willing surrender to the British, Jack was anything but willing to surrender to the noose.

   But his mind had stumbled on a plan as he slept . . . or at least the beginnings of one.  A risky, dangerous, foolhardy, life-threatening plan, but a plan nonetheless.  And if it worked – and it would if Marcus chose the right man – he'd have all the time he needed to kill Gandolfi with the navy (and especially Norrington) none the wiser.  He doubted that Winn was going to like it – in fact, he had the feeling that she'd have such a strong reaction to it that he wasn't going to tell her.

   **_She'll kill you for sure, if this actually works and you don't die in the process._**

**_She'd kill me just for thinking about it, so I may as well go the extra mile.  I can always squirm my way back into her good graces._**

_   **Are you sure about that?**_

**_Reasonably.  _He hoped he was right.**

Winn had had a rough night.  The poison in her system had eased up enough that her pain had stopped and she could sleep without appearing dead, but it hadn't released her entirely.  She was often short of breath, confused, and her eyesight was still fuzzy.

   But the worst part, aside from the weakness and confusion, were her moments of lucidity.  One moment she would be lying quietly, listening to whoever was talking to her, and in the next moment, memory would wash over her like a creeper wave and her eyes would flood with tears and recrimination.

   It was horrible to sit at her bedside and listen to her rain curses down on Gandolfi for threatening the lives of her child and husband; on the men of her lineage for getting into piracy in the first place; on her husband for leaving her and allowing himself to fall into British hands; and on herself for placing her child and husband at risk.  And all of these were accompanied by a mask of tears and blank realization.

   It had been a long night for Winn's friends an family as well.  They hadn't wanted to leave her alone through the night, so they had taken turns sitting up with her.  But morning had finally broken, and Winn was resting comfortably, so it was safe for them to regroup and plan their tactics for the day.

   Grace, Will, Elizabeth, and Marcus were all sitting at the kitchen table, cups of coffee and tea sitting in front of them.  Elizabeth and Will each had a sleeping child in their lap and Grace was thinking that hers would be up soon, but no one was willing to leave quite yet.

   "What do you think Jack's planning?"  Will asked the question they were all wondering, keeping his voice down to avoid waking his daughter who was sleeping in his arms.  Addressing Marcus he continued, "You think that boy is connected to Jack in some way."

   Marcus sighed, and squeezed the hand his wife placed in his.  "From what Jack said, I'd assume that, yes, the boy has something to do with whatever Jack is planning.  I just wish I knew what was going on in his head – what he has in mind."

   "What make you think he even knows what he's going to do yet?"  Everyone turned to Elizabeth.  She adjusted the boy sleeping in her arms out of discomfort, but continued on.  "I know that Jack makes plans in advance – he has to be able to do so to survive – but I know how I felt when Will was taken by Barbossa.  I didn't have a specific plan in mind.  I just knew that I had to get him back."  As the memories from years ago once again became fresh in her mind, she felt an incredible empathy for her friend's husband.  The time when she didn't quite trust him had passed, thanks to his devotion to Winn.  She swallowed and finished her thought.  "I just think that Jack has so much on his mind that he'd working off of where he is and what he wants the outcome of this all to be."

   "And the boy?"

   Elizabeth looked at her husband and smiled wryly.  "I think Jack's hedging his bets."

   Marcus had to admit that her theory sounded much in keeping with his brother-in-law.  Rubbing his face with both hands, he said through a yawn, "That sounds entirely plausible.  Too bad I can't come right out and ask him."

   "Why can't you?"  Grace sounded puzzled and a little alarmed.

   Had he really forgotten to mention the strange talk he'd had with Jack before the boy/pirate had come to collect the note?  Marcus thought back to his arrival at the house the day before and remembered the level of anxiety that had had everyone on tenterhooks.  _Guess I did forget.  And then the boy came here, and I sent someone to deliver the note to the garrison for Jack, and then I went in and saw Freddy . . . .  "Jack asked me to stay away from him for awhile.  I think he's afraid that I might draw the wrong kind of attention down on myself and the family.  And Winn."  He got up from the table, trying to stifle another yawn.  "Nonetheless, I must go into work today.  If I'm extremely lucky, Commodore Norrington will actually have time to talk to me.  Things were too distracting aboard the __Redemption for us to have a decent discussion about what our prisoner was up to."_

   "I know that James . . . the Commodore . . . can be overly formal at times, Marcus, but he has a good heart," Elizabeth said hesitantly.  Marcus looked at her and nodded, a sign that she should continue.  "Just remember that he let Jack go once.  And I still don't think that he's eager to hang him."

   The young captain nodded again.  "I agree with you.  I think most of what went on while we were aboard ship was assurance for the men.  Most other commanders would have strung Jack up the moment it looked like he had harmed a woman and her unborn child.  I'll admit Norrington is just, but if Jack doesn't start cooperating and stop telling wild confabulations, a desire for justice isn't going to be of any use whatsoever."

   Marcus left the room and its occupants to their conversation and went upstairs to change his uniform, stopping to poke his head into his sister's room on the way in.  It occurred to him to be surprised that the Commodore hadn't recognized her.  Winn was a fairly regular visitor to Port Royal.  _But it's not as if she ever socializes with anyone outside of us and the Turners.  Then a thought occurred to him that made his blood run cold – Winn had come to the Caribbean on the same ship as Elizabeth.  A ship that Norrington had been a lieutenant on.  If his commanding officer spent any time in close quarters with Winn, he was bound to remember.  But then, maybe their luck would hold._

   After assuring himself that Winn was still asleep, Marcus went to his room and quickly changed, the new implications of their situation turning themselves in his mind.  _I should tell Grace, but I'm due at the fort soon.  He finished tying his cravat and adjusting his wig.  __I'll have to settle for telling her not to let Norrington talk to Winn until I've a better idea of what to do about all this._

   Quickly descending the stairs, Marcus headed for the kitchen, but was distracted by voices coming from the front door.

   "I was told that Mr. and Mrs. Turner were here, ma'am.  Could you please send for them?"  Grace stood at the front door, watching a man in army crimson as he tried to cajole her into doing as he asked.  By the looks of the man, he was a lowly private who was barely old enough to grow the golden stubble gracing his cheeks.  And if the conditions of his clothing was any indication, he'd been roused straight from the bunks to deliver his message.

   "Is there a problem, private?"  Grace surrendered her position at the door to her husband, retreating to the kitchen to undoubtedly spread the news.

   The young man saluted.  "Captain Morgan.  I apologize for my current state of dress, sir, but Commodore Norrington sent me to pass along a message to the Turners.  I went to their house and their housekeeper informed me that they had already come and gone.  When I asked where they were, she sent me here."

   "Yes, the Turners are here, but they've been up most of the night with a visitor.  If the Commodore wants to see them right away, I'd be happy to pass along their regrets.  Can you tell me what the message is about?"

   "Yes, sir.  It involves the woman that was brought aboard the _Redemption _three days ago."

   "Is that all?"

   "No, sir.  I believe the Commodore also wished to discuss Mister Sparrow with them."

   Marcus nodded.  "I don't believe the Turners will be prepared to meet with the Commodore until later today.  But I'll accompany you back to the fort and explain the matter to him myself."  The private looked relieved.  "Just let me make my farewells to my family."  He gestured for the man to take a seat in a conveniently placed chair.  "At ease, private . . .?"

   "Hudson, sir."

   "At ease then, private Hudson.  This will only take a moment."

   The moment he walked into the kitchen, Marcus started talking before he could be bombarded with questions.  "Will, Elizabeth, can you be ready to meet with the Commodore at the fort by noon?"

   The looked at each other and then at the children.  "Today is Agatha's day off.  We don't have anyone to watch the children."

   "Don't be silly.  Leave them here."

   "Grace, that's kind, but . . ."

   "I know they're a handful, but even when adding them to my brood, it's less than I deal with at times.   And they can't get into any more trouble than my other nieces and nephews do."

   "Then that's that.  Make sure to dress the part of respectable citizens.  I believe Norrington has some suspicions about our recent castaway."

   Elizabeth paled.  "You mean he doesn't know who Winn is?  But he was on a ship with her for nearly five months when we made the crossing from England."

   "That was nearly thirteen years ago, and Freddy didn't exactly volunteer the information herself.  Of course, it's entirely plausible that she didn't recognize the man.  But it seems that Norrington has remembered who she is, and now he wants answers."  Marcus got ready to leave, and hesitated.  _Forewarned is forearmed._  "Norrington also wants to talk to you about Jack.  Tell as much of the truth that you can without revealing his connection to Freddy."  Stunned silence met this, and Marcus slipped out the kitchen doors, rejoining the private in the entryway, and exiting the house to the waking city outside.

Something about the woman had been nagging at him since her first morning aboard the _Redemption.  _

   The Crown had finally seen fit to send out a new ship designed to chase pirates to it's stash of soldiers and navymen in the Caribbean, with the promise of a new flagship to soon follow.  Norrington had been more than pleased by this – the _Dauntless was starting to need more and more repairs at closer intervals.  It was only to be expected – the ship was nearing fifteen years of service – the new arrival was more than welcome, and Norrington had jumped at the chance to take her out._

   Of course, he'd let the captain that would be commanding her the most take charge, but he'd gone along.  It was good for the men to work alongside their commanding officers, and even better was the break in the monotony that was running the Fort Royal garrison.  Norrington hadn't been expecting much excitement on this trip, so when he'd seen Jack Sparrow in that rowboat, he'd felt a sinking sensation in his stomach.

   Now, as pirates went, Sparrow was one of the better ones.  People were rarely killed in raids he led, and he seemed to enjoy the challenge of finding impossible ways to make a landfall more than he enjoyed shedding blood.  And he could even be considered a help at (rare) times.  But the man was still a pirate, and he still broke the Crown's laws, and Norrington was still the highest authority of those laws in the southeastern Caribbean.

   For a split second he'd even hesitated in his decision to take Sparrow into custody, but then the woman in the ship had become apparent, and the dynamics of the entire situation had changed.  Norrington took his responsibilities very seriously, and took the lives placed under his care even more seriously.  And no matter how amused he might secretly be by Sparrow's bumblings, he had to ignore that when it appeared that an English citizen had been harmed.

   But this time, there was more to it than that.  There were two nagging sensations that wouldn't release him from their insinuating grip.

   The first was the feeling that he'd seen the woman somewhere before.  That impression held him for the entire duration of her stay on the _Redemption_, through the first time he'd spoken to her and gotten her name, and through the night after they'd arrived safely back in Port Royal with Sparrow in firm yet impersonal custody.  Something about her face was familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on what it was.  And then it'd come to him early that morning.  She'd said her name was Winifred.  There had been a Winifred traveling with the Swanns when they'd first traveled on the _Dauntless to assume the governorship of Jamaica.  She'd had that same dark hair and skin.  Even though her face and form had changed with time, some air about her had stayed the same, some desire to go about unnoticed.  So that was the first snag holding him back from peace of mind._

   The second was the belief that he was in some way responsible for the woman's current condition.  

   The simple, unadorned truth of the matter was that he had let Sparrow go those five years ago.  He'd let the convicted words of a brash blacksmith and his own sense of fair play and disappointment overrule his better judgment.  Yes, the man had indeed saved lives, but he'd also shown that he couldn't be trusted.  Or at least, he couldn't be trusted in the same way that most men could be trusted.

   So Norrington was left with the feeling that if Mrs. Winifred Smith died, her blood would be on his hands for releasing a pirate on nothing more than faith that the man was better than most of his kindred.  Norrington didn't like that feeling.

   _Today.  Today I need answers._  He went to the door of his quarters within the fort and spoke to the man on duty there.  He needed to speak to Captain Morgan, and he needed to talk to the Turners.  He wanted Elizabeth to talk to her friend.  Perhaps Mrs. Morgan wouldn't turn aside an old family friend in the same way she brushed off his attempts to speak to the woman. And Will, he needed Will in particular to speak to the pirate.  

   So far, Sparrow had ducked all attempts at getting him to speak of the events that had led to his occupying the same boat as a woman in extreme physical distress.  He'd managed to speak of just about everything else he'd done in the five years since he'd spent a night in Port Royal's jail, but the one bit of information that Norrington needed, Sparrow refused to give.  Norrington didn't know if this was because Sparrow didn't want to incriminate himself, or if he simply didn't care, or if he honestly didn't know, but needed answers.  He refused to hang a man with more on his account than was due him.

   Yes.  Hang.  That couldn't be avoided now.  The men under his command would revolt if he let the pirate escape for a third time, especially after the sailors from the _Redemption spread their version of what had happened to the woman.  And the law that he represented demanded it.  It should be a simple enough decision to make and arrange for._

   So why did he get the feeling that something about this entire situation was horribly wrong?

_-Knock, knock, knock-_

   "Enter."  Norrington looked up from the piles of reports and inventories and intelligence that were on his desk, grateful for the interruption.  A young man in a rumpled uniform entered the office, a faint blush staining his cheeks, although his face stayed impassive.

   "Commodore Norrington, sir.  Captain Morgan to see you."  The young captain was just a step behind the private, his appearance a sharp contrast to the younger man.

   The commodore wondered where the Turners were, but set aside that question for later.  "Very well.  You're dismissed."  The young man saluted and left the room, closing the door behind him.  "Please, have a seat, captain."

   Marcus took the empty seat across from his commanding officer.  "Thank you for seeing me, sir.  I know you weren't planning to this morning."

   "It's quite alright, Captain.  I was wondering how your wife's patient was doing this morning."

   Marcus shrugged.  "No better, but no worse.  Grace seems confident that the most severe symptoms have passed.  However, there are secondary afflictions that are lingering and disrupting sleep for the entire household."

   "And for the Turners as well, undoubtedly."

   "Sir?"

   "They are close friends with Mrs. Smith, are they not?  I seem to remember her as being a ward of Governor Swann at one point, although she seemed to all but disappear once we had reached Port Royal thirteen years ago.  Have they discovered that their childhood friend has been found?"

   "Yes, sir.  I was just wondering how you knew.  Mrs. Smith mentioned something about an Elizabeth Swann once she learned we were in Port Royal, and Grace, being the woman she is, sent for them immediately hoping to comfort the poor woman."  It was close enough to the truth that Marcus didn't feel too guilty about leaving out some rather important information.  "That's one of the reasons I needed to see you.  The Turners were at my home all night, staying up with Mrs. Smith.  They're exhausted and unkempt, and send their pardons and a message asking if it would be alright if they come in around noon."

   Norrington waved a hand in silent acceptance.  "Tell me, Captain, has your houseguest said anything more about what may have happened between her and Mister Sparrow?"

   "No, sir."  No, Winn had done nothing but curse her husband for surrendering himself to the Crown.  And she'd apologized for putting him in the position where he would feel such a thing were necessary.

   "Well, then any course of action we decide upon must wait, I suppose."  Norrington didn't sound happy with the thought.  "Thank you for your time, Captain.  I know you have other business that needs you attention.  You are free to leave."

   Marcus needed more information, not a dismissal.  "Commodore –"

   "You're dismissed, Captain.  I have work to get done if I'm to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Turner."

   Marcus knew that he wasn't going to get anything more from his superior, so he stood up and left.

"Turner, Elizabeth, it's good to see your both well after your long night.  Captain Morgan tells me that his guest is not the most restful of patients."

   "No, she's not."  Elizabeth and Will came into the room, Will shaking Norrington's proffered hand, Elizabeth allowing him to whisper a kiss across her knuckles as was proper.  "However, she seemed exhausted when we left her.  With any luck, she's still sleeping peacefully.  Heaven knows she needs it."  Taking their seats, Elizabeth looked over at her husband – he still felt somewhat awkward during social visits, although he portrayed much more confidence than he once had.  She felt pride rise up within her.  He had a reason for his confidence.  He was a gifted craftsman, successful businessman, caring father, and devoted husband.  No one had any right to judge him.

   Norrington took his own seat behind his desk once his guests had seated themselves.  "Thank you for coming, both of you.  I promise not to keep you for too long, although I must admit to needing your help."

   "Of course, Commodore.  Whatever Elizabeth and I can do for you."

   "Thank you, Mr. Turn–" Norrington interrupted himself, "Will."

   Will was surprised by Norrington's use of his first name.  To his knowledge, the commodore hadn't addressed him as such since he'd turned fourteen or fifteen.  He was also surprised by the request.  If he was willing to go to such a personal level, then his requests must be serious indeed.

   "First, I need you both to confirm a suspicion that has been plaguing me for some time now."  The couple nodded.  "Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Winifred Smith, she's the woman who was under Governor Swann's care, is she not?"

   "Yes, that's Winn."  Elizabeth decided to answer this question, seeing as how Winn was the closet thing she'd ever had to a sibling.  "It was quite a shock to find her in such a condition."

   "I can imagine.  Do you have any idea what she may have been doing in Mr. Sparrow's company?"

   Will and Elizabeth looked at each other, then at Norrington.  "If you're asking if Jack kidnapped her, or coerced her into being with him, the answer is no.  Winn is happily married, to the best of our knowledge.  If she was found drifting in a boat with Jack, there must be another reason for it."  And there was, just not one that Elizabeth could say.

   Norrington let out a frustrated sigh.  "Then that brings me to my next request.  Will, I need you to talk to Sparrow."

   "Why's that, Commodore?  I haven't seen the man for nearly five years."  And to the best of Norrington's knowledge, he hadn't.

   "I'm hoping that you can get more than fish stories out him.  Sparrow refuses to either defend or implicate himself.  If I didn't know better, I'd suspect him of having some kind of hidden agenda, although I can't imagine what he might have gotten into that would make turning himself over to the law an attractive opportunity.  I'm hoping that he'll be a bit more open with you than he is with me or any of the other men who have tried talking to him."

   Will shrugged.  "I'll give it a try, of course, but I'm not sure you should expect him to say anymore to me than he's said to you."  If what Marcus had said was true, Jack would order him not to pass along anything he might be able to share.

   "Again, thank you."  Norrington rose and went to the door.  "Lieutenant Williams will show you where Sparrow is staying.  Elizabeth, you are free to go or stay, but I advise you not to go near the cell block – it's no place for a lady."

   Elizabeth met her husband's eyes and made a decision.  "I'll stay here, then.  I'd like to hear more of how Winn was found, if you don't mind."

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**_Go Here!!!_  An interesting link to some fanart for 'Inconvenient' by a very talented reader.  Take out the spaces though – ff.net won't let me put the address up without them  *grr*: http : // img 5 . photobucket . com / albums / v15 / NeonDaisies /winnie_jack.jpg**

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	25. Exposition

**Author's Note:  HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!**

**I'm so sorry this one took awhile to get out to you all!  But, what with Christmas and birthdays and all those entail, I didn't actually have much time to write, and writer's block made things even harder.  But, I have emerged triumphant, and hopefully the next chapter will make it out faster than this one.**

**As always, author's thanks at the end.**

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The sound of footsteps on stone reached the man sitting in the last cell of Port Royal's prison.  Jack raised his hat high enough to see who was coming down to visit him.  These footsteps were lighter than those belonging to military types.  He felt a moment of surprise when he saw who it was.  _Well, 'ole Norry must be getting desperate if he's calling on what he thinks is a five-year-old alliance to help him.  Settling his hat back over his eyes, Jack waited for Will to address him before stirring._

   "Jack . . ."  Will felt a moment of fond exasperation.  Jack had pretended to be asleep that day five years ago as well.  "Jack, I know you're awake."

   "You know, it really is a pity you made me put back that coin," Jack drawled.  "Bein' immortal might not hurt right now.  Although, it would surprise you how hard it is to get hung around here."

   "Jack."  The pirate looked up to see shock on his companion's face.  It was good to shake the kid up once and awhile.

   "What is it, whelp?  If you're worrying about reporting back to Norrington, don't."  Will watched as Jack's eyes became serious, as serious as they'd been when he'd first spoken of his intentions toward Winn.  "Tell him anything you like.  Just don't give away Winn's secret life.  I'm here to prevent that – don't make this all in vain."

   Will wasn't quite sure what he was hearing.  This didn't sound like Jack at all.  "So you're just going to give up?  Go to the noose quietly?"

   Jack drew his head back and widened his eyes, falling into his captain mannerisms out of long habit.  "Who said anything about dying?"

   "You did.  You said you were trying to get yourself hung."

   "There's a big difference between hanging and dying, lad.  One I intend to keep as large as possible."

   "You're not making sense, Jack."

   "If I started making sense, you wouldn't know it was me.  Besides, as long as I tell you nothing of use, you won't have to lie."

   "Fine, then let's say that I've come to enjoy lying.  What are you planning?"  Will leaned back against the wall of the corridor, crossing his arms over his chest.  "What do you have up your sleeves?"

   "Nothing, unless Marcus can work a miracle.  Let's just say I haven't given up on the possibility of a plan B.  However, backup plans seem to be rather scarce at the moment."  Jack levered himself up and started pacing the small confines of his cell, willing to let some agitation show in front of a trusted friend, and family member through two marriages – Will's to Elizabeth, and Jack's to Winn.  _Although, technically, Winn isn't related to __Elizabeth__.  Jack shoved these thoughts out of his head.  "Tying a noose is something like science, Will my boy.  There's a certain way to tie the knots that will practically guarantee a man a quick death.  And then there's ways to see that your punished criminal will die of strangulation.  And then there's another way to tie a noose, one that – while it's extremely uncomfortable – won't kill a man."_

   "And you know how to tie a rope like that?"

   "No, but I know a man who does."  Will just looked at Jack incredulously.  "What?  My wife comes here a lot.  You think I don't know the local populace of riff-raff and ne'er-do-wells as well as I know my own ship?  What kind of husband would I be if I didn't ensure some kind of watch over her?"  _Blasted woman slips her watchers more often than not, though.  I'm going to have a good talking to with her about that._

   "Does Marcus know that you're going to need his help, eventually?  He's straining at the bit.  I'm not sure he likes the idea of attending the hanging of a family member."

   "I'm not too thrilled about it either, lad."  The two men had a moment of shared silence.  And while it was a comfortable one, it made Jack a tad uneasy.  The more silence, the more time Will had to brood.  That was the worse thing about the lad; he did have a tendency to brood.  Best to distract him.  "How's Lizzie?"

   "Worried.  Wondering how to explain things to Wyatt.  He's just old enough to wonder what's wrong with this 'auntie.'"

   Jack nodded absently, trying to keep his mind off his wife for the time being.  He'd done all he could for her at the moment.  Now he had to concentrate on getting free to go back to her.  "What did Liz tell him?" 

   "She just said that Winn was sick, and that he needed to stay out of the room for the time being.  Marcus and Grace banned their children from the room as well, but I think Meg has managed to sneak in once or twice."  Will swallowed, wondering if he should say what he wanted to, then decided to go for it.  At the moment Jack couldn't do much to hurt him.  "The children all want to know where you are.  Meg and Elsa are really the only ones old enough to be disturbed by your absence, but they all know that something is wrong.  It'd be hard to miss."

   "Will –"  Jack got up again and started pacing his cell.  What he wouldn't give to be on the deck of his ship, feet firmly planted as he steered for anywhere but here.

   "She was up most of the night calling for you and cursing you for being an arrogant fool.  And those are her words, not mine."  Will could see how agitated his friend was.  _He looks like Wyatt right before he places his hands over his ears._  It was odd to compare a pirate with two-score years of life behind him to a nearly three year old child, but the semblance was there.

   "I don't want to hear this, Will."  There was the same petulant tone even.

   "You need to hear it, Jack!  You love her, and you haven't asked after her yet.  You're worried."  Against his better judgment, the younger man approached the bars of Jack's cell.  "Jack –"

   Jack turned in the blink of an eye and twisted to grab Will through the bars of his cell.  Hauling the younger man forward, he pulled him against the metal bars; the hilt of Will sword let out a conspicuous _'clang'_.  He was going to have to hurry because the guards would have heard that.  "Listen closely, boy.  Yes, I love Winn.  But the only thing that's keeping me from falling apart at the moment is _not_ thinking about her.  Savvy?  How did you feel when Barbossa took Elizabeth?  Hmm?"  He saw comprehension dawn on the boy's face.  "Exactly.  You kept busy.  If you hadn't, you would have fallen apart.  That wouldn't have helped your wench.  And it won't help mine."  Guards were appearing from the stairway.  "But since you brought the topic up, look out for her.  And don't tell her what I'm contemplating."  Jack thrust Will away from him and retreated to the back of his cell where the guards couldn't lay a hand on him.

   "Wot's goin' on in 'ere?"  The two redcoats who'd come down were throwing suspicious glances between Jack and Will.  They both knew who'd been responsible for breaking the pirate out of jail years before, and they hadn't been too happy when they'd been ordered to let the blacksmith go down by himself.

   Jack, quickly picking up on their train of thought, pasted an innocent look on his face, and raised his arms, fingers dancing in the air as he tried to appear helpless.  "Nothing, sirs.  Nothing.  The lad here just lost his balance for a moment.  Lending a helping hand, that's all I was doing, although your vigilance is to be commended.  I don't suppose I could tempt you to turn pirate?  I could use two good men like you."  The soldiers sneered, and Will tried to keep from smiling.  Jack had truly missed his calling on the stage.

   "The only good man you need is a priest, and I'm not sure even he can do anythin' for you," one of the soldiers drawled with disdain.  "As much as I'd like to see you hang by the neck until your eyes pop, I think I'll steer clear.  The devil is sure to be on hand to escort you to hell himself."

   "What makes you think I haven't already escaped the devil?"  Jack's eyes found Will, and he motioned with his head.  It was time for the lad to go, and Will caught on to the message.  The last thing he heard as he was leaving was Jack starting to spin another tale for a contemptuous yet spell-bound audience.

   As he climbed up the stairs, shaking his head at Jack's audacity, he heard the crinkling of paper.  Examining his pockets, Will found the culprit – a note folded many times and heavier than it should be.  On the outside was a single word – Winn.  Will smiled as he realized that Jack wasn't nearly as detached as he wanted people to believe.  But he'd pretend he didn't know that.  Jack would want it that way.

"What did you and the Commodore talk about?"

   Elizabeth shrugged, moving with the motion of the carriage.  "Winn.  Her present condition, did I have any idea what she would be doing in the company of a pirate, what has she been up to in the years since we came out, how well did I know her.  And then we talked about Jack; did I think he was capable of harming a woman and her unborn child, what did I think he could have been doing with Winn in the middle of nowhere, did I know where his ship was.  That sort of thing.  I pointed out that you had spent more time in the man's company and would probably be more likely to answer those questions than I.  He still wanted my input though."  Elizabeth opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.  "Did you get the feeling that there was something wrong with Norrington when you were talking to him?"

   "What do you mean?"  Will had thought that perhaps the commodore had been a bit preoccupied, but then again, Norrington was usually preoccupied whenever he ended up talking to Will.  But there had been that moment where the older man had used his given name.  "Wrong how?"

   Elizabeth shook her head and stared out her window.  "I don't know.  Maybe I'm too concerned about Winn and Jack to think clearly.  It just seemed like Norrington was more interested in all this than he should be, or normally would be.  It's almost as if he's not willing to accept the conclusion that Jack wants him to come to.  But I don't know why."  She felt her husband's arms encircle her, and she relaxed against his chest.  She closed her eyes – she was tired.

   "Maybe Norrington is feeling responsible for this."

   "Why?"  Elizabeth turned to face her husband.  "Why would he feel responsible for this more than he'd feel responsible for something that _any_ pirate did?"

   "He let Jack go, that's why.  If he hadn't then Winn wouldn't be in the position she's in now."

   "Will!  This isn't Jack's fault!"

   Her husband shrugged.  "I know it's not his fault, but can you honestly say that you don't think that he's not blaming himself right now?  You should have seen him, Elizabeth.  He was trying so hard to be himself, but he wasn't pulling it off."  Will paused, then continued, glad he had someone to talk to.  "I think . . . I think that Jack wants to get free, but at this point, he's not considering it as his main priority.  That was getting Winn to safety, and he's still concerned for her."

   "Do you know what he's planning?"

   Will shook his head.  "All I know is he's considering taking more of a risk than any of us are comfortable with."

   "Will, that's always the case with Jack."

   "No, there's more too it than that."

   "You think he's deliberately trying to get himself killed?"

   "No.  I don't think that.  But I do think he's dancing close to the edge.  I'm not sure he knows it though."  Will sighed.  "Anyway, Norrington.  I think he feels just as responsible as Jack for Winn.  If he hadn't let Jack go, then he couldn't have hurt anyone.  Jack feels responsible for Winn because she probably wouldn't have resumed some of her old habits without his influence.  And Winn feels responsible for not only Jack, but her child.  If things don't turn out right, there's going to be a large mess to clean up, to put things mildly."  The rest of the ride was completed in silence.

"Auntie Winn?"  Meg was standing by her aunt's bed, keeping one eye on the doorway.  She wasn't supposed to be in here, and she couldn't be sure of what kind of job her sisters were doing of watching for grown-ups.  But one of them had had to come in and see how their aunt was.  All the adults were worried, and they wanted to know why, but no one would tell them.  That left going in and finding out for themselves.  "Auntie Winn?"  Meg hoped that her aunt would wake up soon, or she'd have to give up.  Her youngest aunt was notorious for being a heavy sleeper.  The girl reached out one hand and shook her aunt's shoulder, hoping she'd wake up.

   "Jack?"

   "No auntie.  It's Meg."

   Winn's eyes slowly opened.  _Meg?  Her eyes focused on a dark mop of hair.  _Oh.  Meggie._  "What are you doing in here, Meggie?"_

   "I came to see if you were alright.  Momma and Poppa won't tell us anything.  And the kids want to know."

   Winn smiled at the girl's description of her younger siblings.  "Well, I suppose that's alright then."  She watched as the girl looked over her shoulder again.  "What's wrong?"  _Mercy, my voice is rough._  Normally Winn would take a sip of water, but she didn't have the energy to do so at the moment, and she was afraid that Meg might spill something, so she didn't ask her to get some for her.  "Why do you keep looking over your shoulder?"  Meg blushed.  "You're not supposed to be in here, are you?"

   "No, auntie."  Meg's voice was a whisper.

   "Well, that's alright then.  It's good to break a rule every now and then.  Don't tell your parents I said that."

   "I won't."

   Winn patted her hand against the blankets.  "Come sit by me."  The girl obeyed.  "Now, what do you want to know?"

   "Are you alright?  Momma said you were sick."

   Winn didn't like the worried look on her niece's face.  "I was sick, but I'm getting better."

   "Was it because of the baby?  I remember when Momma was pregnant with Henry and Matthew, she got sick."

   "No, I wasn't sick because of the baby."  Her child, how was her child?  Winn tensed until she felt the gentle kicks inside her belly.  "Do you want to feel your cousin?"  Meg nodded.  Winn took the girl's hand in hers and laid it over the place where her child was exercising.  "Can you feel it?"  Meg nodded.  "What do you want your new cousin to be, Meggie?"

   "Auntie!  Stop calling me that.  I'm a big girl now.  And I want it to be a girl because there's too many boys."

   There was only one more boy than girls amongst the cousins, but Winn let that slip.  "But you'll always be a little girl to me, Meggie.  The same with your cousins."

   "So you'll always call Jamie, and Gary, and Phen, and Pip, and Suzie by their little names?"

   Winn had to admire the way the kid listed off every single one of her cousins with a nickname.  "Yes.  I'll always call them by their 'little names'."

   Meg nodded in comprehension then looked at Winn's stomach.  "You're not fat yet.  Are you going to get fat?"

   "With luck, yes."

   "Where's the Captain?"  Unlike some of her cousins, Meg had agreed to call Jack that instead of 'Uncle Jack.'  Her reasoning was that she already had a lot of uncles.  It would be nice to have her own captain.

   Winn froze.  That was a good question.  Why _couldn't she remember where her husband was?_

   "Meg."  Both females looked at the door.  Winn couldn't be sure, but she thought it was Will at the door.  "I thought you were supposed to be letting your aunt rest?"  Yes, that was Will.

   "Auntie Winn said I could come in."

   "Of course she would."  Will shook his head, amazed that Winn hadn't lost her understated rebellious streak through all this.  "Why don't you leave so I can talk to her for a bit?"

   "You won't tell Momma I was in here?"  Will shook his head.

   Meg glanced at her aunt, who nodded.  The child slipped off the bed, hesitated, and then gave Winn a childish kiss on the cheek.  "Tell your brother and sisters 'hello' for me, alright?"  Meg nodded, then trotted out the room.  Will closed the door after her.

   "Sounds like you're feeling a bit better."

   Winn nodded.  "Will you pour me a drink?"  She accepted the glass Will handed her with a quiet 'thank you', and tried to disregard the hand he lent to help her keep from dumping water down the front of her nightdress.  "Again, thank you."  She relaxed back against the mound of pillows at her back.  "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me where my husband is?"

   Will took a seat in a nearby chair.  "I think you already know."

   Winn nodded.  "I think I do too.  I remember . . . I remember seeing him surrounded by redcoats, and remember asking Marcus to look after him."

   "Marcus is doing the best he can, but Jack isn't letting him do a lot.  He's not letting any of us do a lot."

   "Why not?"

   Will shrugged.  "I'm sure he has his reasons, although if he does, I don't think he fully explained them to me.  But maybe you'll have better luck."  Will pulled the note for Winn out of his pocket and handed it to her.

   She took it, feeling hope and foreboding battling each other.  It was from Jack – she'd recognize his handwriting anywhere.  "You . . . you've been to see him."  Will nodded.  "How was he?"

   "He wasn't injured, if that's what you're asking."

   "It's not, although it's a comfort."

   "I don't know what to tell you then.  He's your husband, not mine."

   This startled a laugh from Winn.  "And a very good thing it is too.  Just think how Elizabeth would feel."  She kept turning the note over and over in her hands.

   "Aren't you going to read that?  Or would you like me to leave so you can read it in peace?"

   Winn shook her head.  "I doubt it matters.  I'm not sure my eyes can focus on anything as small as words at the moment.  You're still a bit fuzzy.  And it's dark in here."  Will got up and opened the curtains.

   "Did that help?"

   Winn squinted at the note.  The lines did seem to be a bit cleaner . . . but she still wasn't sure she could read.  _But I need to know what he said.  She could ask Will for help, but that didn't seem like the best idea.  Whatever Jack had put on the paper must be private, otherwise he wouldn't have minded passing along a verbal message.  "I'm . . . I'm going to try to read it.  Will you stay?"  She wasn't sure why he was here instead of Elizabeth, but she was grateful for his presence.  Besides, Elizabeth might just make her cry at the moment – Will's presence had a steadier influence._

   "Of course."

   Winn nodded, then opened the letter, part of her mind absently noting that she'd been hearing from her husband more from correspondence than in person of late.  But then something fell into her lap, and all extemporaneous thoughts were driven from her head.  Reaching into her lap with trembling fingers, she picked up the piece of metal – it was one of the many baubles that Jack had braided into his hair.  He'd sent it to her.  Tears pricked her eyes, and she wiped them with her fingers.  She needed her sight to be as clear as it would get before reading his message.

   When she felt as if she were prepared, she looked down at the page and slowly started to read:

_Winnie,_

_   I'm sorry I can't be there with you, love, but other matters have my time and concern at the moment.  I know that Grace and Marcus, not to mention Will and Elizabeth – and even the Commodore himself – are looking after you.  I know that's small comfort, but it's all I have to offer at the moment._

_   I don't know how much you remember, or how much you've been told, but let me assure you that things are going according to plan.  Not my plan perhaps . . . (Smile, love - that was a joke.)  Winn merely shook her head._  Let me assure you that I do have a plan though.  Don't waste energy or lose sleep on my account.  I have every intention of coming out of this without collecting more than a scrape or two.  I don't want to tell you what I'm planning, because you'll get upset.  Save that for later, when you can rage at me without needing a nap halfway through.  Just trust me for a bit._  _

Oh . . . anytime Jack asked her to trust him meant that he was about to do something he thought she'd hate.  But by this point, Winn couldn't even imagine what that would be.  Pausing in her reading, she looked up at Will.  "What's he planning?"

   "He asked me not to tell you, or at least he asked me not to tell you what he told me, which wasn't much."

   "Please, Will.  I need to know."

   "Why?"

   "He's my husband, I worry.  It's something wives do when their husbands say that they won't like what they're about to do, but trust them anyway.  And Jack's worse than most.  He'll dare anything.  Please, Will.  Tell me?"

   Will weighed his options for a moment.  He'd known Winn longer than he'd known Jack, but he was a husband and could understand where Jack was coming from.  If Winn knew what her husband was planning, or trying to plan, she'd worry herself sick.  That wouldn't be good for her or the child. _ "But since you brought the topic up, look out for her.  And don't tell her what I'm contemplating."  Will found that he agreed with Jack at the moment._

   Winn's heart sunk as Will shook his head.  He wasn't going to tell her what he knew.  "Why not?"

   "I trust Jack's judgment.  And he's a friend – I won't betray his confidence, even to you, just as I wouldn't betray yours to him.  Besides, there's more at stake here than your need for knowledge.  There's also your need to trust your husband."

   "He's a pirate."

   "And you're not?"

   "No. . . not entirely."

   "Alright, then is Jack honest or dishonest?"

   "He's usually honest with me.  Instead of lying, he simply won't tell me what I want to know.  But you know what he says – the honest ones are the one you have to watch."

   "Only if you're used to dealing with dishonest men."  Will paused.  "Can you trust him?"

   "Yes . . . but it hurts.  It hurts that he won't trust me with the whole truth."

   "Do you tell a child the whole truth when they ask where babies come from?"

   "I'm not a child Will . . . but no, I suppose you just give them the information they can understand or accept."  Winn glanced out the window.  "I just wish he'd _trust me."_

   "He knows you too well for that."  When Winn glanced at him sourly, he chuckled and continued.  "He knows how you act when you're worried, and he knows that your body can't take that right now.  And he does trust you – he's trusting you to care for his child.  That's why he's sheltering you a bit right now."

    "I'm pregnant, not intellectually impaired."

    Will shrugged.  "I'm sure you can ask any of your sisters and find out that your brothers reacted the same way when they were pregnant with their first child.  Jack may be a pirate, but there's a concerned gentleman hiding there inside somewhere.  It may be buried under layers and layers of time, and travel, and larceny, but it's there.  Let him worry about you."

   Winn sighed, nodded, and accepted what Will had said.  He'd come a long way from the half-drowned waif who appeared below decks on the _Dauntless all those years ago . . . .  The _Dauntless._  Norrington had been on the __Dauntless.  He was stationed in Port Royal.  She was in Port Royal . . . .  "Will!  What about Norrington?"_

   Will reached out and took one of Winn's hands.  "Shh . . . don't worry about him quite yet."

   "But what if he recognizes me?"

   "He already has, but he doesn't know of your connection to Marcus and the family or to Jack.  You're safe for the moment.  He does want to question you, but we'll handle that later.  Grace bought you at least another four days before he'll appear on the doorstep.  Just finish reading what Jack sent you.  And then I'm sure that Grace will come out and shoo me out to let you sleep some more."

   "Will?  Why are you here instead of Elizabeth?"

   "Elizabeth had to feed Deborah, and I was the one who talked to Jack."  He squeezed her hand.  "Besides, old friends should have the chance to talk to each other."

   Winn nodded and looked at the papers in her hand.  "You're right.  We are old friends.  I didn't mean to imply –"

   "You're worrying.  Stop."

   Winn laughed dryly.  "I remember taking care of you when you were half dead and caked in sea salt, young Mr. Turner.  You should respect your elders."

   "Nonsense.  I'm simply returning the favor, and you aren't that old."

    Winn went back to her letter.

_   I know that things are hard for you now, and that you're prefer some evidence that all will be well, but I have less to offer you than I have for Marcus.  Your brother is nearly as stubborn as you are, although he seems to take direction better than you do.  Must be because he's a man and more amenable to logic than females such as your lovely self.  But to help put your mind at ease, let me tell you how I spend my days._

_   There's not much to tell, so maybe this wasn't the best idea I've ever had.  The most exciting parts so far have been when the very conscientious Commodore Norrington has come down to inquiry into how I found myself in a boat in the middle of nowhere with a 'gentlewoman of respectable birth.'  Goes to show just how much he knows about you, doesn't it?  I amuse myself by spinning tales and watching polite frustration move over his face.  Really, Norrington isn't all that bad – no one as eminently susceptible to torment as he is could ever be considered **bad.**  But I'm afraid his patience may be wearing thin.  When you know what the story you're going to tell him is, have Marcus slip me a copy so I can back up your story._

_   I have to go.  I have other letters yet to write, and not much time to do so._

_   Here's a token of my regards – that sounded very proper, didn't it?  It's not meant for you to keep – I'll be back to collect it from you as soon as I can._

_   I still have the knife you gave me._

_   Take care – of yourself and our child._

_      -J_

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**Some Additional thoughts: the pic I gave you all the link for, was stored by a friend of mine – Neon ****Daisies, aka Sara – who writes OUATIM fanfic on this site and who's computer will let her store things.  Mine just eats it.  **_The person who actually drew that picture is a wonderful reviewer from _******_Italy_****_ – Stefina Crivello.  Please, e-mail her and let hew know what you think: stefinacrivello@tin.it_**

Also, I've **updated my 'One Shot' collection.  There's a Jack POV in it for you if you wanna read it.  ^_^  It's under that name.**

**Author's Thanks: **

**thursdaysgirl**** –first off, many, many thanks to you who took the time to talk to me on IM – it's great to hear from people who have read my stuff, and who go through the same struggles I do as an author.  Any advice you've gotten from me . . . well, just surprised you could make sense of my rambles.  ^_^  Hope to hear from you again.**

**Dawnie-7**

**Vagrant Candy**

**BeBe******

**bobo3 **

**jackfan2 – good to hear from you again.  ^_^  No worries, I understand the busy lives of mothers.  But it's always good to hear from you.  Glad you thought I wrote Norrington credibly well.  Now, if only I could be as sure of my characterization of Will in this chapter . . . (P.S. – I know you like OUATIM fics, or you mentioned something like that at one time.  I suggest you read 'More Than Eyes Alone Can See' by Neon Daisies.  Yes, I know, blatant advertising for a friend, but her writing style is really similar to mine, so I think you might enjoy it.  It starts the same as many other Sands fics, but she's managed to develop her OC well – better than I started out with Winn.  I love that girl.)**

**lilitaliandragon******

**SuzzieQue**** – thanks to you as well for your assurance that my Norrington was behaving within his character boundaries.  He just got so much of character growth cut out of the movie that it wasn't until I had seen the deleted scenes that I felt comfortable with adding him.**

**EricaDawn**** – again, thanks with the reassurance.  Adding a new POV can be tricky, especially when you're unsure of what you're doing, but reviewer comments always help allay those fears.**

**TaraRose**** - **

**Golden Rose 3 – you also helped relieve my Norrington anxiety.  And thank you – I had a very good Christmas.  Hope your holidays went as well as mine.**

**Elhedwen**** – you're right that he's going to find out everything.  I can't wait to get to that part.  Winn's had a bit much down-time.  Unfortunately for him, she's going to be well rested.  *evil grin***

**KawaiiRyu**** – oh, couldn't tie anything in without bobo3's help.  She's a great author, and I'm tickled pink that she's willing to work with me and lend me Kendra for a bit.  This unity amongst fanfic writers is a great thing to see.**

**Blue Trinity – and thanks for Norrington reassurance to you as well.  Really, I think I have the best reviewers on this site.**

**pirate-miss******


	26. Knots and Nooses

**Author's Note: Yes, another chapter out.  It's been more than a week, but things have picked up for me.  I'll do my best to post again within the next week.**

**_IMPORTANT: For future reference, _****_Hannover_****_ was the name of the ruling kings of _****_England_****_ during the 1700's.  Know that._**

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"What day is the hanging scheduled for?"

   Politics.  He hated politics.  Unfortunately, it was one of the negatives that came with the rank of Commodore.  James Norrington didn't especially enjoy dabbling in politics like so many other men of his rank.  He steered clear of them whenever he could.  But now, when he could least afford the dance that walking a fine line required, he had no other choice.  "I still haven't talked to Mrs. Smith, the woman involved in all of this, and since I have not, I have not yet scheduled Mr. Sparrow's execution."  Norrington tried to appease that man currently sitting behind _his desk._

   Paxton Tyndale, King's Chancellor, was a man in his late fifties.  He was a short man, but the intensity of his face made up for that.  "Why haven't you questioned this young woman and why should that have any bearing on what day Sparrow – a pirate with a long list of charges against his name – meets the Crown's justice?"

   "Because I do not wish to hang the man with undeserved charges against him."

   "Your integrity and honor are admirable, Commodore, but we're speaking of a pirate.  Even if he didn't abuse this woman, there is undoubtedly at least one somewhere in his past that he has."  Tyndale stood up and started pacing.  "When His Majesty, King George, sent me out here to evaluate the conditions of his troops and subjects, it was with the understanding that I would report back to him directly, and that my report would be free of embellishment.  Now, the news I have regarding the tensions in the colonies to the North is not what I had hoped to give His Majesty.  But the English colonies in the Caribbean, especially those under your watchful eye, have been prospering.  Flourishing even."

   "Thank you, sir."

   Paxton waved a hand, acknowledging and dismissing Norrington's comment at the same time.  "However, this matter of Sparrow is of greatest importance to not only His Majesty, but to all of England's citizens.  The man is a parasite and a scourge.  I find it hard to understand how the man escaped your custody last time, even with the interference of that carpenter."

   "Blacksmith."  Norrington corrected absently as he pulled his shoulders back at the implication that he'd been careless.   "I can assure you, Lord Hallington, that provisions have been made to prevent Sparrow from escaping."

   "And the girl?  What is know of her?"

   "Her name is Winifred Smith, formerly Winifred Morgan.  She arrived in the Caribbean roughly twelve years ago.  For those years she's been living with her family, until approximately four years ago when she marries d the captain of a merchant vessel.  No one knows how she ended up floating in a rowboat off the coast of Hati."

   "Sparrow hasn't confessed to anything?"

   "No, my lord."

   "Has he volunteered any information?"

   "No."

   Paxton stared out the window at the fort grounds.  "I want to speak to Sparrow, and then I want to question to girl.  The sooner we get things cleared up, the sooner we can rid ourselves of Sparrow."

   "Very well, sir.  Give me a moment to send a message to Mrs. Morgan, and then I'll escort you to Sparrow's cell myself."  The pirate was going to twist Tyndale's head into a knot as efficiently as he would tie a knot in a length of rope.  By this point, Norrington would be more than pleased to see that.

"Is there anything else you were wishin' to be askin' me, Commodore?  Or can I return to m'nap?"  The sound of angry footsteps was fading.  "Not that the distraction wasn't welcome."

   As Norrington had predicted, the pirate had managed to so utterly confound and evade Tyndale's questions, that the older gentleman had stormed off in a huff.  Sparrow – to all appearances – had enjoyed the chance to tweak the Chancellor's tail immensely.  However, there had been an air of distraction around him the entire time.  One that led Norrington to believe that questioning, if gone about in the right way, would offer some results.  "I wouldn't mind hearing the truth."

   Jack hid his surprise.  This was the first time that anyone had asked that of him.  Norrington learned from his failures, apparently.  "Ah, but would you believe the truth even if I told it to you?"

   "With you neck on the line, I would hope I wouldn't have to doubt you."  Norrington walked closer to the bars of Jack's cell.  "Why weren't you safely on that island, Sparrow?" 

   "I told you, I'm a gentleman of fortune.  It's against my nature to ignore a damsel in distress."  _Especially when said damsel is my wife._

   "So, who was it that poisoned her if it wasn't you?"

   Jack's eyes darkened and he went to stare out the grate at the back of his cell.  There was nothing but grey stone and redcoats to meet the eye.  Not even a glimpse of the sea.  "Someone with less morals that I."

   Norrington detected a trace of anger in the pirate's voice.  That was intriguing.  What stake did Sparrow have in all this?  Other than his neck, of course.  "Does this man have a name?"

   "Aye."

   Norrington waited to see if Jack was going to give him any information at all.  Silence.  "Poisoning a woman and her unborn child is considered illegal by most, myself included.  Give me his name so we can find and punish him."

   Jack glanced away from his bleak view to snidely say, "Thanks for the offer, Commodore, but I'd rather punish him myself."

   There was that trace of personal involvement again.  Norrington glanced around the room as if he were looking for Jack's crew.  "I don't know if you've noticed, but Tyndale is determined to see you hang.  How do you propose to gain revenge if you're dead?"

   Jack smiled, growing more comfortable with the conversation.  It amused him to drop hints about his plan that Norrington could later piece together.  "That would be a neat trick, wouldn't it?  Risin' from the grave.  Jack Sparrow's greatest escape."

   "Are you telling me that you are trying to reserve yourself a date on the gallows?"

   "No, but I have aspirations."

   "Sparrow –"

   "As I said before, Commodore, thank you for the offer, but no.  There's too many people mixed up in this as it is."

   Norrington had a rather startling epiphany as he watched Jack try to hide his mounting agitation.  The woman, she was the key to all this.  Sparrow wasn't trying to protect himself, he was trying to protect _her.  But why?  And from what?  Playing his hunch, he asked, "She's important, isn't she?"_

   "I don't know what you're talkin' about, mate.  I just hate seein' a wench treated so poorly."  

   Jack had hesitated before answering, and Norrington had to hide the spark of success that lit in his eyes.  "Tyndale is set on questioning her, you know.  And I doubt she has the strength to evade his questions as neatly as you did.  Although, if I remember correctly, she was a rather retiring young woman.  I don't suppose that's changed."

   "I don't know, Commodore.  I'm afraid that I'm not very well acquainted with 'Winfred.'"

   "I suppose not."  The woman's name had never come up during the conversation with Tyndale, and Norrington had been referring to her as 'Mrs. Smith.'  There was more going on than met the eye.  But Tyndale was undoubtedly becoming impatient to go question the girl – perhaps she would let more slip than the pirate before him.  Norrington turned to leave, but threw over his shoulder, "For what it's worth,_ Mr. Sparrow,_ I believe that you didn't hurt her."

   "Captain, lad.  Captain."  Jack briefly thought about replying further, but decided against it.  Last words could wait until he was free of this place. 

   As he settled back into his now customary position, he wondered if he'd heard back from Old Tom soon.  Time was running out.

"Freddy?"  Grace and Elizabeth entered Winn's sickroom, becoming alarmed when they didn't find her in her bed.  "Winn!"

   "Calm down.  I'm fine."  If Pigeon's whines and whimpers were any indication, Winn was nothing of the sort.

   The two women rounded the bed to find their patient kneeling on the floor by the room's single window.  Her face was pale and several scraggly locks of hair were sticking to her sweat dampened temples, but her voice was stronger than it had been on her arrival in the house.  Nearly a week had passed since she'd been poisoned; three nights had come and gone since they'd arrived in Port Royal, but she was still weak.

   "Winifred Eloise Morgan!"

   "Morgan-Sparrow," Winn muttered as her two friends and foster-sisters levered her to her feet.

   "I don't care if it's Morgan-Hannover.  What are you _doing out of bed?  Are you __trying to undo all your progress?"_

   "No."  Heaven's, she was sore.  The muscles of her legs were burning, her abdomen quietly complaining.  Her body was more than happy to let her know that it didn't appreciate all the activity.

   "Then what were you doing?  What were you _thinking?"_

   "That I was starting to feel like a beached whale.  I've been lying in one bed or another for nearly a week now.  Before that I was being very good about limiting my activity.  I was starting to worry that my legs had forgotten how to work – and I was very nearly right."

   "Your legs don't need to work right now.  You need to stay in bed.  You _need_ –"

   "Yes, I know.  I need to take it easy."  As much as Winn loved Grace and respected her knowledge of the human body, she couldn't help but snap.  She was _tired_ of being _told_ things.  She was tired of staying in bed, of being tired, of being weak, of not seeing her husband . . . .  "I _was_ taking it easy."  Her temper was getting the best of her.  "I walked all of five feet, Grace.  I _hobbled all of five feet.  Using the wall to support myself."_

   "Yes, and you collapsed because you overextended yourself."

_   "You assume too much."  Winn felt her temper flare and suddenly knew that if she didn't make her point soon, she would end up making her sister's case for her.  She simply didn't have the energy to maintain a tirade at the moment.  "I know I'm supposed to be playing the part of an invalid, but I'm not a bloody idiot.  I collapsed nowhere.  I knelt on the floor because I wanted to feel sunshine on my face again.  I wanted to be in something other than a prone position.  If you knew what I was wishing I could do, you'd be overjoyed that I contained myself to that."  Grace noticed that Winn's face was now flushed.  She tried to determine whether her sister-in-law was running a fever or not, but Winn jerked away.  "I'm fine, Grace."_

   "You're red in the face.  I just want to make sure that you're not running a temper.  That wouldn't be good for the baby."

   Winn let Grace do as she wished.  But not without protest.  "I'm not running a fever – this is just the first time that anyone's let me exert any energy since I discovered I was pregnant."  _Well, other than running off after Jack.  "And you better not start holding my baby hostage to get me to cooperate with you either.  I'll just upset me."  __Drat.  I'd be ever so much more convincing if I didn't sound so petulant._

   Grace and Elizabeth (who had been rather silent through all this) traded knowing glances.  Winn might get upset, but she'd do what was best for her child.  "Don't do foolish things, and I won't have to remind you that you're pregnant."

   "I don't need any reminders, thank you.  The babe rarely gives me a moment's rest anymore.  I'm starting to understand how bread dough feels when it's been kneaded for too long."

   "That will stop within two months or so, since no one seems to know how far along you truly are.  Soon the child will simply be too big to move around much."  Winn nodded in understanding.  "So, now that we have things settled to a certain degree of satisfaction, would you like to know why Elizabeth and I came in here in the first place?"

   "You mean you didn't come in merely to lecture me?"

   "Winn."  Winn knew that tone in Elizabeth's voice – it meant her friend thought she had stepped out of line.  Perhaps she had.

   "I'm sorry."  Winn looked down at her lap, wondering why she hadn't been whisked under the covers of the bed yet.  Surely someone thought she would get a chill sitting here in nothing but her borrowed and therefore overly-large nightclothes.  "Why did you two ladies come to visit me?"

   "Good news or bad news first, Freddy?"

   Winn looked up from her lap to meet Grace's eyes. "Does any of the news have to do with Jack?"

   "No, I'm afraid not."

   When she saw the understanding and sympathy in Grace's eyes, Winn looked away.  She didn't want sympathy.  She wanted her husband, true, but there was nothing her friends could do at the moment.  "Good news first.  I've heard so little of it of late."

   "Alright, then the good news is, we came up here because we decided that you could use a bath."

   "I hope that isn't your way of trying to find a polite way to tell me that I stink."

   "No, but it does have to do with the bad news."

   _No.  Please tell me that I'm not to expect visitors.  Please._  "Which is?"

   "Norrington has finally decided that you've had time enough to recover sufficiently for questioning."  Grace and Elizabeth watched Winn's eyes slowly close in defeat.  "But that's not the bad news."

   A bitter laugh escaped from Winn' throat.  "Of course it isn't."  No, for months now, their luck – hers and Jack's – had been growing worse and worse.  Why should that stop now?  "And what is worse than being visited by the man who imprisoned my husband?"

   "Marcus believes that Norrington is hesitant about hanging Jack."  Winn looked at Elizabeth.  The woman had been her friend for nearly her entire life.  "Will and I both agree with that assessment.  If it were just Norrington who was going to be questioning you, we wouldn't be nearly as worried as we are.  But Norrington is coming alone."  Elizabeth sighed and sat on the bed by her friend, taking one of Winn's hands in her own.  "This is a restless time for the British colonies on this side of the Atlantic.  The settlements in America are being obstinate, the French are overtaking Canada, and the Spaniards are sending more and more men to their lands along the Caribbean.  King George is getting uneasy, so he sent one of his own men out here to judge what must be done to see that England doesn't lose any of her holdings."

   "What are you trying to tell me, Liz?"

   "You're not just being visited by the Commodore.  You're being visited by Lord Hallington, Chancellor Tyndale, personal friend and confidant of the king."

   Winn just barely managed to hold in hysterical streams of disbelieving laughter.

"Ah, Mrs. Smith, I'm glad to see that your recovery as been swift, thus far."

   "Thank you, Commodore Norrington.  Please forgive me for not recognizing you earlier."  Winn was sitting up in her bed, wearing another borrowed nightgown and her own chamber robe.  She'd asked for something of her own so that she might feel more comfortable while talking to these men.  Also to help her feel more comfortable – and to allay any suspicions that either man might be holding – she was wearing the wig she wore when out in polite society.  Respectable women simple didn't have short hair.  And while she hated the wig on principle because it was black – the particular shade of brown bordering on black was impossible to find – she knew that Jack would want her to wear it.  The only things that were lacking to make her feel completely at ease were her husband (who was detained) and her dog (who'd been banished to the gardens along with the children).

   "Forgiveness is not necessary, Mrs. Smith, unless you wish to forgive me for not recognizing you.  We were both under extenuating circumstances at the time."

   As much as Winn hated the endless sessions in which her grandmother had crammed proper etiquette in her head, she had to admit that they came in handy now.  She was able to behave in the way that was expected of her while hiding her true feelings of distaste.  _Honest or dishonest?  Is etiquette a pardon for polite dishonesty?  "Please, Commodore, call me Winifred," she had to fight not to grimace at her full name.  "I was barely out of childhood when we first met, and if I remember correctly, you did manage to teach me a thing or two about chess during the crossing from England."_

   "As you wish, madam."  They both knew that he wouldn't relax his propriety farther than that title.  "I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you, but I'm afraid that we're in desperate need of answers."

   "Please, Commodore, Chancellor, have a seat.  Would you like some tea?"

   "Yes, please.  But first I must admit to being remiss in my duties."  Norrington gestured to the man at his side.  "Please, allow me to introduce you to Lord Hallington, Paxton Tyndale, member of His Majesty's private counsel."

   Winn gave a demure smile to the man, holding out a single hand for him to clasp, or whatever it was that noblemen did to women so far below their station.  The smile faltered as she saw the intensity of the man's eyes.  "It is an honor, Lord Hallington, to know that my . . . difficulties have attracted the attention of one in such an exalted position."  _And if I live to be a hundred, I hope never to lay eyes on you again.  According to her family, this was the man that pressing for a swift hanging._

   "A pleasure, Mrs. Smith.  I hope that you will accept my sympathy on your current condition."

   "Of course, my lord."  Winn murmured in a fashion meant to sound as if she were awed by meeting someone of such high political standing.  "Please, do give me the courtesy of having a seat.  I'm afraid that too much moment within my field of vision is still a thing to be avoided."

   "Certainly, Mrs. Smith.  Indeed, it would be churlish of me to deny such a politely phrased request."

   "My lord gives me courage to ask another boon."

   "Anything within my power, madam."

   "I ask that my dear friend, Mrs. Turner, and my new friend, Mrs. Morgan, be allowed to stay with me.  I'm afraid that they are rather zealously guarding me at the moment.  Apparently weariness is a state to be avoided at all costs."  Winn had to avoid looking at either one of her friends out of fear that she'd make a face at them.

   "Of course.  It is entirely proper for you to think of chaperonage, especially after your ordeal."  The man accepted a saucer and cup of tea from Elizabeth as Grace gave one to Norrington.  "Are you not going to have some tea yourself, madam?"

   Winn paled at the thought.  "No Chancellor.  I'm afraid that my stomach will not permit it."  And would never permit it again.  It had occurred to her some time ago that it had been the tea that had been poisoned.  It had been so bitter.  She'd never be able to touch the stuff again for the rest of her life.  Of course, she hadn't liked tea to begin with – it had simply been a craving caused by her pregnancy – but there was a difference between choosing not to drink something, and being unable to drink something.

   "Madam?"

   "Yes?"

   "I inquired if it was alright if I asked you a few questions about what happened before Commodore Norrington and the _Redemption found you."_

   _Not to mention my brother and the fact that I was only found because my husband was willing to sacrifice himself to see me safe.  But let's not give them any credit._  "Yes, I'm sorry.  I'm afraid that my mind still has a tendency to wander.  An annoying and persistent side effect.  My apologies."

   Norrington answered before the Chancellor could.  "That's quite alright.  No one can blame you for that.  Not only is this sure to be unpleasant for you, but I apologize for our haste.  I know that Mrs. Morgan in particular would have liked to see us wait another day or two before coming to see you."

   Hallington was glaring at his protégé.  A very polite, well-bred glare, to be certain.  "What the Commodore means, is he regrets the urgency with which we need information.  If Sparrow had cooperated with us, we wouldn't need to be here right now.  But seeing as he is a pirate, and refused to do anything but be . . . difficult," the tone of voice that accompanied that word told Winn exactly what her husband had been, and that the appropriate word was much stronger than 'difficult.'  "Well, we were left with you as our only other source of information.  Not only is it your duty as an English citizen to help us, but I thought you might be eager to see the man who did this to you brought to quick justice."

   "You know who did this?"  Winn was confused.  She thought that Jack was refusing to say anything.  "Then why do you want to hang . . . Sparrow . . . so quickly?"  She'd almost used her husband's first name, which would have been unfortunate.

   "Are you saying that Sparrow wasn't the one who harmed you?"  There was a mild amount of disappointment in the Chancellor's voice.

   "What would motivate a . . . a pirate to harm a pregnant woman, my lord?  There's no profit and no glory in it.  I don't know much about pirates," a blatant lie, "but I was under the assumption that most of their actions are governed by survival and mercenary matters."

   The Chancellor nodded, Norrington watched her, Elizabeth and Grace traded looks, and Winn simply tried not to squirm under the weight of the tension in the room.  She was good – or had been good – at hiding her emotions, but she'd never been a good liar.  _Jack better_ appreciate this.__

   "Mrs. Smith, if I might be so bold as to ask you some questions about your past?"

   "Certainly, my lord."  _Yes, steer the conversation into safer waters._

   "Your maiden name is Morgan, is it not?"

   "Yes, my lord."

   "How is it that you are now recuperating in a household of a family that shares that name?"

   "Coincidence, my lord.  Morgan is a fairly common name."

   Hallington nodded again.  "Commodore Norrington mentioned that you had been living with your family before marrying the captain of a merchant vessel.  Where exactly is this family based, and with whom?"

   "My brother, my lord.  His name is Richard.  He runs a sugar plantation outside Santiago."

   "He lives on an island under Spanish rule?"  There was a shade of condemnation in the man's voice.

   "Yes, sir.  The land was cheap and best for growing sugarcane.  I can assure you that he is loyal to the Crown if that is what you're worrying about."  _Yes, crowns, and sovereigns, and even the pence.  He's a merchant in his own right, for all that he avoids the sea whenever possible._

   "How did you meet your husband?"

   "I met Mr. Smith on a ship.  Both our vessels had come alongside each other to exchange pleasantries, as is common.  He says that I caught his curiosity.  He traced me to Port Royal where I was visiting for the Turner's wedding.  My family extended an invitation for him to visit our family holdings, and he accepted.  I'm afraid that at that time, my family had given up on me as an old maid.  They jumped on the chance to see me happily married."  _Whether that was what we wanted or not._

   "And where is Mr. Smith now?  Why was he not traveling with his pregnant wife?"

   "If you doubt my devotion to him, or his to me, please save yourself the energy.  My husband's ship was damaged in a fight with raiders several months go.  The need for repairs was extensive, and someone had to oversee them.  I was to stay with family, but decided that I hadn't seen Elizabeth in some time.  So I headed to Port Royal."

   "Does he know that you intended to come here?"

   "Yes, he knows that I'm in Port Royal."

   "And your marriage?  It is a happy one?"

   Oh, she didn't like the direction that this was heading in at all.  "What are you implying, Lord Hallington?"

   "Just that you wouldn't be the first lonely wife to take a . . . consort.  And you wouldn't be the first woman to try to rid herself of another man's child?"

    "Jack Sparrow's child.  That's what you mean, isn't it?" Winn demanded.  Despite the fact that she knew better, she went ahead and let her temper rage.  This man deserved to be on its sharp end.  If only she weren't so weak she'd be able to do ever so much more to disabuse him of his faulty notions.  "Despite my husband's many absences, I have remained a faithful wife.  I love my husband, and even now my thoughts are with him.  This child is considered a miracle by both my husband and I.  Never would I do anything to intentionally harm it.  You insult me with your insinuations, and I don't appreciate it.  If that's all that your sordid mind can come up with, you are free to leave this room now, because I will _not_ suffer this indignity.  I may just be a common woman, a member of the merchant class, but that gives you no right to throw doubts on my character."

   "I'm sure that's not what the Chancellor meant to imply, madam, nor do I think he believed you possible of such things.  It's just that all possibilities must be discarded."

   "Well, that is one possibility, Commodore Norrington, that should never have been conceived."  Winn sank into her pillows.  _I'm going to sleep well tonight._

Hallington only stayed for another quarter hour after her outburst.  He was undoubtedly offended that she considered herself his equal, or at least worthy of some consideration.  Winn was going to tell Jack that the first thing he needed to do after getting the _Pearl back from her repairs was find a ship with English nobles on it and raid it.  Or at least embarrass them._

   "I'm sorry that the Lord Chancellor upset you, Mrs. Smith."

   Winn turned her eyes to Norrington, wondering why he hadn't left with Hallington.  "It's not for you to apologize for another man's behavior, Commodore, although I do appreciate the sentiment."

   The two were silent for a moment before Winn realized that he wasn't necessarily going to leave soon.  "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me, Commodore?  Because if there isn't, then I really do think that it's time I had a nap.  I still tire easily and dealing with Lord Hallington took what strength I had left."

   It was the similarity of her words to Sparrow's that caught the Commodore's attention.  He wondered if more than coincidence was at work in this dramatic performance he'd found himself in.  There were a lot of coincidences around this woman; the way her last name matched that of those who were tending her, the fact that she'd been in a boat with captain Jack Sparrow – a man Norrington had been halfheartedly searching for, her lack of a husband at her side, all the details that she claimed not to remember but her insistence that it hadn't been the pirate that had harmed her.  And the fact that Turner and Elizabeth were once again pulled into a situation that revolved around Sparrow.  There were too many 'coincidences' for his peace of mind.

   "Do you think that I changed his mind?"  Winn had to know what the chances of a prolonged sentencing were.  The more time they had, the more likely it became that Jack would come out of all this alive.

   "Is that what you were trying to do?"

   "Let's say that I had aspirations."

   "Excuse me?"  The coincidences were piling up now.  There had to be more to all this than met the eye.

   "Captain Sparrow saved my life, Commodore." _ In so many more ways than one.  "It would be ungrateful and uncouth of me to be concerned about his well-being after the lengths he took to ensure the safety of myself and my child.  It's my fault he's here, isn't it?"_

   "So, you're sticking to the story that Sparrow didn't harm you."

   "If he had, why would he have given himself up?  Why wouldn't he have done it on the safety of his own ship?  No, Sparrow didn't hurt me."

   "But you don't know the name or the ship or even the description of the man who did."

   This was an area where things turned exceedingly grey.  There was much that she didn't remember about her time in captivity.  Whether that was due to the last effects of the drugs in her system or to her mind being unable to process what had nearly happened, she had no idea.  "No I don't.  All I remember was that I was on a frigate, and that the man had silver hair."

   "And why were you on this ship?  What led you to do such a thing?"

   "I supposed to be meeting my husband, but things went wrong."

   "Your husband who is seeing to the repairs of his ship."

   "I never said that he was seeing to repairs – just that they were needed."

   "And where is your husband now?"

   "Detained – and you can make of that what you will."

   "Commodore, please, I'm afraid that Winn has tired herself out."  Norrington looked down to see Elizabeth standing near him.  "Anything you get from her now will sound more like it should be coming from a Delphi oracle than from a woman who has answers for what happened to her.  I do believe it's time for you to leave, although you are free to send around a message should you have any more questions."

   "Of course, Mrs. Turner.  I apologize if I've overstayed my welcome."

   Grace joined in the effort.  "Not your welcome, sir, just Winifred's ability to stay conscious."  Winn made some sound of protest, but it was to quiet to be clearly heard.

   Norrington was leaving the room when Winn asked one last question of him.  "Commodore, you never answered my question about Sparrow.  Was that by design or by oversight?"

   The Commodore turned back to his audience.  He saw veiled agony in Winn's eyes and wondered if it was mental or physical.  "Design, Madam Smith."  Her eyes clouded.  "I'm afraid that there is nothing I can do to halt Sparrow's sentencing, especially with Hallington calling for his head.  I'm sorry if you feel responsible, but I also have responsibility, although it brings me no joy.  Sparrow will be sentenced within the next day.  It's up to Hallington to decide when the sentence will be carried out."  Unable to stay longer under that blank gaze, Norrington left the room, determined to find answers to the questions this had all raised.  Just as he was determined to ignore the muffled sobs coming from the room he'd just left.

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**Author's Thanks:**

**Dawnie-7 –** cracking up, eh?  I not sure that was the effect I was going for.  ; )  Glad you liked the bit of Will.  I think I'm starting to understand him better.

**bobo3 – **I just wanna say that I really enjoy working with you, and I'm looking forward to ending this fic so we can collaborate.  That's going to be a fun fic to write.

**pirate-miss**** – thanks much.  I'm glad to have Will and Liz back too.**

**VagrantCandy**** – doubt this will ever be film unless one of us makes it ourselves.  But that's a whole 'nother story all together.**

**TaraRose**** – thanks for taking the time to review while you're at work.  I know I wouldn't.**

**Dog Star – **holidays, while fun, are extremely busy.  No apologies necessary.

**EricaDawn**** – I like that bauble.**

**Golden Rose3 – **oh, the look on Winn's face will not be attractive.  Jack's going to be hearing about this for quite a bit . . . should he survive.  And Will – I'm just really starting to enjoy writing that guy.

**BeBe**** – pretty sure I'm making the last know trick up, but the first two are true according to my dad.  *shrugs***

**Ariandir**** –yay!  You're back!  For a bit of time!  ^_^  As for my talent . . . still think you have more of a plot than I do.  ; )**

**Elhedwen**** – thank you.  I really do think I'm starting to get the hang of writing Will.**


	27. Connecting the Dots

**Author's Notes: I really have nothing to say.  Emotional chapter for me, almost started crying while I was writing it at one point.  Next chapter is emotional, the one after that as well.  Things are pretty much downhill from here on out though.  *shrugs*  I'm tired, but I hope you enjoy this.**

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**Author's thanks at end.**

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Why hadn't the _Pearl_ been nearby to whisk its captain to safety?  How many coincidences could be safely dismissed before one became a fool?   Where was this mentioned husband?  Why was Winifred Smith so elusive when it came to giving up his whereabouts?  Why did no one remember the name of the man who poisoned a woman who was obviously with child?  Why did a pirate risk his freedom and his life for a woman?  And why did that woman weep for him?   These were the questions that plagued Norrington as he went back to the garrison.

   But even without the answers to these questions, Norrington was . . . uncomfortable with hanging the pirate.  Sparrow had been too protective.  There had simply been too much of a sense of loss in Winifred Smith's eyes.  Something else was going on here, and he was going to find out what it was.  And then he'd decide whether to help, hinder, or turn a blind eye.

   When the Commodore arrived back at his office, he found Tyndale waiting for him.  The Chancellor did not look happy.  It was a small wonder – in one day he'd been shown a great amount of disrespect and insolence by a pirate (who ought to fear the power that the man had over his future), and then shortly after that he'd been lectured by a woman who should have had been awed that such a powerful man deigned to talk to her.  The poor man undoubtedly felt as if his office along with his person had been irreparably affronted.  Well, that was life in the Caribbean.

   "I've arranged for the magistrate to have Sparrow charged tomorrow morning.  I want the vermin there, in ankle shackles as well as wrist restraints.  The authority and dignity of this court will be upheld."  Norrington neglected to comment that Tyndale's orders were not only spiteful and petty, but self-indulgent as well.  No matter how much iron weighed Sparrow down, he wasn't going to do anything but point out the arrogance and pompousness of the court and its officials.  "Sparrow will learn to respect his betters before this is over."  Tyndale paused, and then nodded to himself.  "I want Mrs. Smith to give testimony –"

   "I beg your pardon, sir, but I doubt that Mrs. Morgan will permit that.   You saw how enervated our presence made Mrs. Smith.  I fear that having her give testimony would be too much of an ordeal for her."

   "Both Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Smith are citizens of the British empire – they shall do as they are asked."

   "Be that as it may, Chancellor, I would not wish to find myself on Mrs. Morgan's bad side.  Not to mention that it is hardly the act of a nobleman or a gentleman to request a woman recovering from a trying ordeal to go through another one before she has regained her full strength."  Tyndale harrumphed, but Norrington saw that he was considering his words, so he continued.  "What good will it do to have the woman there?  She has denied that Sparrow had anything to do with her poisoning.  There is no evidence to accuse her of misleading us.  The magistrate will sentence Sparrow as he sees fit without her assistance.  Why drag the woman out of her sickbed?  Are you hoping that Sparrow will be so guilt-ridden that he'll confess?"

   "I'd like that, but I doubt that it will happen.  The man would first need to have a conscience."  Tyndale looked outside at the parade grounds.  "Very well.  I will not make the woman give testimony, but I wish that she attend.  Justice shall be served in one way or another, and I want her to see  that.  See that it's done, Commodore."  Norrington saluted as Hallington left the office.

   Once the door was safely shut, he slumped into his chair.  Perhaps it would have been better to have let Sparrow go after taking the woman aboard after all.

Winn looked up from the slip of paper.  "Grace.  I can't.  Don't _ask_ me to do this.  It was bad enough hearing Norrington confirm the . . . the probable verdict.  I won't be able to sit in a courtroom and listen to Jack be condemned to _death_."  A sob accompanied the last word, although Winn clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle it.  She'd just managed to collect herself from the men's visit.  Her eyes were red, her skin blotchy, and her voice rough.  It had been a battle to stem her tears and conserve her energy, but she'd managed.  And now this news had her teetering on the edge again.

   "What are you talking about, Freddy?"  Winn held out the note for Grace to take.  The woman quickly read it, her face flushing with anger.  It wasn't often that Grace got upset, but when it came to her family, she'd willingly do battle with any number of Hallingtons and Norringtons.  _Not only will it be too painful emotionally, but she's not nearly well enough.  "Don't worry, Freddy.  Stay here and rest.  I'll take care of this."_

   "Wait.  If you're going to go to the fort . . . I . . . want to send Jack a message."

   A half an hour later, Grace was in Norrington's office, ranting and demanding to see Hallington.  Norrington let her pace and call on deities until she'd worn her anger down to a steady, throbbing glow.  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Morgan, but there is nothing I can do to help you."  He held up a hand when Grace showed a tendency to start talking again, "I agree with you wholeheartedly on every point you've raised.  However, Lord Hallington has made up his mind.  I've already attempted to change it, without success, and he respects me.  I'm afraid that anything he said to you would be pure patronization, and I have no desire to have to lock you in the jail overnight to cool your heels from attacking the Chancellor, because we both know that is what things would likely come to."  Grace glowered but didn't protest.  "Please give Mrs. Smith my regrets, and my assurances that the sentencing will be short and that I will do all I can to assist her."

   Grace would have protested further, but she noticed that the Commodore's face was lined in weariness.  It was clear that he was not patronizing her as he said Hallington would do – he had his own concerns for the situation.  _"I know that James can be overly formal at times, but he has a good heart.  Just remember that he let Jack go once.  And I still don't think that he's eager to hang him."  Elizabeth was a smart woman.  "I'm afraid that Winifred won't find that very comforting."_

   "Yes . . . I'd assumed that.  But it's the best I can do."  Norrington showed Grace to the door.  Before he opened it for her, he said quietly, "I know there's some bit of information that is carefully not being mentioned in my presence, Mrs. Morgan – something involving Sparrow – just as I know it isn't your place to tell me what that is.  If you could convince your patient to confide in me, it would take a great deal off my mind."

   Grace didn't look at Norrington.  "I'm afraid that I have no information to share with you, Commodore, and I can't promise that any of words of mine will cause any changes in the prevailing thinking patterns.  Winifred is acting under the counsel of her husband, and that she unlikely to do anything without his permission.  I'm afraid that your reputation is unlikely to inspire open confidences from either of them."

   "My reputation as a pirate chaser."

   "If that's the one you feel would keep people from sharing information with you."  Grace looked up from her study of the floor and met Norrington's eyes.  She'd never heard anything bad about the Commodore; her husband, Elizabeth, and Will all spoke highly of him.  She'd had the opportunity to witness his behavior during the trip that had had brought this mess to Port Royal.  Everything she'd observed – from his sense of duty to his refusal to allow Jack to be mistreated – spoke of a man who understood far more of people than he wanted the common populace to know.  She didn't think he'd detain or jail Winn for being the wife of a pirate any more than she believed that he would go down to the cells and beat Jack himself.  "Perhaps Sparrow should be informed of his sentencing so he will have time to accustom himself to the news.  I believe Marcus has nothing to do at the moment."  Norrington searched her face and nodded, apparently satisfied by her words and whatever meaning he could make of their veiled depth.

   "You're right, madam.  I'll have him go down and inform Mr. Sparrow as soon as he has the time."

   "I'm glad you think it was a good idea.  If you would give this to him for me?"  Grace held out a slender letter.  When Norrington turned it over, he found an oval stamped into the sealing wax.  This was not a letter from Grace, Norrington knew that much – Marcus had talked for days last Christmas about the seal he was having made for his wife who spent so much time writing to her family.  He looked back at Grace to find a perfectly blank look on her face.

   "My pleasure, Mrs. Morgan.  Please give Winifred my regards."  Grace nodded and left the office.  Norrington looked after her, then went to see his youngest captain.

Jack had finally heard back from Old Tom.  The retired longshoreman had sent his grandson to the jail to visit a drunk uncle/father/brother/unidentified male relative, and while he was there, the boy had slipped a note to Jack.  The note hadn't said anything, but there was a knot drawn on it, and Jack had known that the man would have his noose waiting_.  Now it's just a question of how to . . . execute . . . the plan.  _Jack's lips twitched, at the thought.  There was something to be said for humor when one was sitting alone in a jail cell for what he thought was the fifth day, but he wasn't certain.

   _It's been three days since I've had news of Winn,_ he thought to himself.  _Surely this has to be a case of no news being good news.  Surely the poison has worked its way out of her system._

_   **I thought you were supposed to be thinking up a way to make sure the right noose gets around your neck.**_

_   "You'd better not do anything to keep this knot from doing its job, lad."_

_   Will rolled his eyes.  "You'd better not let Winn hear you talking like that – she's rather sensitive when it comes to such statements.  Something tells me that she would find it unappealing to be compared to a knot in a noose." _

_   **Wrong noose.**_

_   Yes, but ever so much more appealing.  Jack sighed, redirecting his thoughts.  There really wasn't any room for mistakes at this point.  After that performance today with 'Lord Chancellor Hallington' and Norrington, he had to keep on his toes.  He had the distinct impression that he might have given away too much while he'd been brooding over his lack of information concerning Winn.  __If only I could talk with Marcus –_

   "Well, I'm surprised that there isn't a hole worn in the floor from your pacing, Jack."  The pirate turned around to find his brother-in-law regarding him with a raised eyebrow.  "That must have taken considerable restraint on your part.  I know you're used to being outside most of the time."

   Jack shook his head and continued pacing the cell.  "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it can be unhealthy to sneak up on a pirate?"

   "Nah.  Us half-bloods can get away with almost anything."  Marcus had dismissed the guards so he could speak freely with Jack.  "I'm sure the waiting has been dragging on you more than anything else."

   "That and being trapped like a parrot in a cage.  Oh, yes, and then there's the small fact that the last time I saw my wife she was looking like death warmed over."

   "I see the opportunity to cool your heels hasn't sweetened your temper any."

   "Funny, Marcus.  Did you have a point and purpose in coming down here, or did you just decide that it'd been too long since you've had the opportunity for friendly conversation?"

   "Actually, Norrington asked me to come down here and see you."  

   Jack stopped his pacing.  "Why's that?"

   "It seems that you ruffled a few feathers earlier this morning.  Hallington is calling for your head, so to speak."

   A quiet jangling accompanied Jack as he shook his head and resumed his path back and forth across the small cell.  To his chagrin he'd discovered that pacing was quite addictive.  "If that's all you had to tell me, lad, you could have saved yourself the trip.  That was clear as he stormed out of here with a face the color of a radish."

   "Jack."  The pirate looked at him but didn't stop moving.  "I _do_ have some news you might be interested in.

   "Then spit it out."

   "Your sentencing is tomorrow."

   "Your point?  You forget that this isn't new to me.  I've been 'sentenced' before, and it didn't seem to inconvenience me at all.  Norrington doesn't bother with herding his criminals down to the magistrate as some do."

   "Some like Hallington."  Jack did stop at this.  "He's ordered that you not only be present to hear the charges against you, but that you be there in ankle and wrist irons.  He's out to humiliate you.  And that's not even the worst part yet."

   _Oh_.  Jack didn't like the direction this was heading in.  "What's the worst part then?"

   "Winn's been ordered to attend as well."

   Jack felt his heart go cold.  "They're not going to charge her with anything, are they?"

   "No."  Marcus replied quickly when he saw the apprehension in Jack's eyes.  "No.  They have nothing against her, and while she managed to . . . ruffle Hallington's feathers as well, she did come out unscathed."

   "Unscathed except that she's bein' forced to leave her bed when she's still too weak to even contemplate the idea."  Jack growled softly.  "When will that woman learn to control her tongue?"

   "She's always been one to speak her mind.  And you're not the best influence for instilling a sense of restraint and discipline in someone, Jack."  Marcus got a glare for his comment.  "Don't look at me like that.  Besides, if she hadn't said something to deny Hallington's accusations, then I might have been forced to duel the man for her honor."

   "What'd he say?"  Marcus was almost comforted that the worry in Jack's eyes had been wiped out by veiled anger.

   "He accused her of being pregnant by a man not her husband, and that she was ill because she was too eager when it came to taking a bit of castor bean to conceal her indiscretion.  Then Winn pointed out that what he meant was she was trying to abort a child she had by you, and she gave a rather stirring performance of a wronged wife and mother-to-be without ever once telling a lie.  Or so Grace tells me."

   Jack had to fight to contain his anger.  That anyone would believe Winn capable of adultery and murder was ludicrous.  The woman didn't even like to kill spiders.  She'd actually asked him to stun one once instead of squishing it.  "I don't suppose you know what Hallington's schedule is?  Like, when he's leaving, for example.  Or what route he's taking back to England."

   Marcus watched as Jack slowly and purposely relaxed his shoulders, his stance becoming that of a captain at the wheel of a ship rather than a man about to engage in swordplay.  "No, I'm afraid not.  I might be able to find out from the Commodore, however."

   Jack nodded in either appreciation or acknowledgement.  "Other than that little . . . misunderstanding, how did the questioning go?"

   "Grace said that things only lasted another for another fifteen minutes after that.  She also said that Norrington stayed for a bit after the Chancellor left."

   "Doing what?"

   "He had some additional questions to ask Winn.  He also apologized for Hallington's behavior."

   Jack was surprised by that, but it was the 'additional questions' that concerned him.  "What else did he ask?"

   "Just a few of the questions that Hallington had already asked – why had she been on a ship without her husband, where was her husband, was she sure you had nothing to do with her poisoning, and who was the man who did it."  Marcus exhaled slowly.  "I'm not even sure she had to hide the truth on some of those.  There are times when I'm not sure how much of her captivity she actually remembers.  And speaking of remembering," Marcus searched through various pockets in his uniform until he found the one he was looking for, "I remembered that I have something to give you."  He pulled the letter out of his pocket and handed it through the bars.  "I need to be going.  Something tells me that Winn is going to need one of her brothers around tonight, and for right now, that's me.  Besides, I get the feeling you'd rather read that in a bit of privacy."

   Jack studied the letter; there was no heading on the front and when he flipped it over the seal was a plain oval.  He smiled at the sight – Winn had never been one for pointless adornment.  "Aye, you're right about that," he replied quietly.  "Thanks for playing message boy, Marcus."

   "All in a day's work."  Marcus held his hand through the bars.  Jack looked at it for a moment, then held out his own hand.  They clasped forearms and then Marcus left Jack to the correspondence of his wife.

   The first paper that he found was smaller than the rest and it was folded in half.  He opened it to find a sketch.  It was of a child of indeterminate age and sex, although he could tell that it was supposed to be their child.  It had dark eyes and dark hair, Winnie's mouth, his nose.  Jack rubbed at his chest, trying to dislodge the burning sensation there.  If all turned out well, their child couldn't be any more beautiful than the picture his wife had drawn.  He turned his attention to the letter.

_Hi ~ _

Jack could almost hear the uncertainty in his wife's thoughts.  As he read the letter, he hear each and ever pause and inflection of her voice, so strongly did she come across on the paper.

_   I have dreams, Jack.  No, I **had dreams.  Lots and lots of dreams.  And in them, I was faced with a choice of some sort.  I don't remember what it was though.  All I know was that it was the knowledge that you were waiting for me somewhere that made me want to wake up.  So I did.  And then things got confusing, and I don't really remember what happened after that morning that Gandolfi discovered I was pregnant.**_

_   I do remember another thing about the dreams, though.  The picture, the child . . . that child was in them too.  And it talked to me.  And even then I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl, but I knew it was **mine.**  I knew it was my child, and I loved it because it **was** mine, and because I could see you in it too.  So I wanted you to be able to see it.  Umm . . I was thinking that if the babe is a boy, we could name it Crispin.  I really like that name.  Do you?_

_   I just read what I've written so far.  I'm sorry if this letter is somewhat disjointed – my thoughts are still jumbled in my head, like seaweed on a beach after a storm.  I don't think it's because of the poison . . . I think it's because Hallington upset me so much.  I can't talk about that yet. _

_   Remember our first night together as man and wife?  I was so certain that my scars would make you turn away from me.  Yet you didn't.  You took each one in stride, even the ones that I still have a hard time looking at.  But I've been thinking – how many scars can a body suffer before it can no longer heal?  I've had to heal from a lot in life, Jack.  The deaths of my parents, the deaths of people who took me in, circumstances that seemed like betrayals, doubt, confusion, fear.  I healed, you helped me heal, but not without cost.  There's a scar on my heart for each of those.  Don't let me down, Jack.  I'm not sure that wound would ever form a scar.  Bleeding to death never struck my fancy.  They say that he who is born to hang, will never drown.  I've never seen either of those as your death (although I don't doubt that there was a time where you'd gladly go down with your ship).  I'm not sure I would be able to accept your death any better if you died in my arms, but I know that's what I would prefer.  Such cheery conversation, isn't it?_

_   Anyway . . . ._

The letter went on, talking about random things.  A funny thing that Meg had said; Deborah, Will and Liz's youngest, was teething; Pige had scared the daughter of the man who looked after Marcus and Grace's garden but Kiwi – the children's cat – was fine with having the hound around because Pige was scared of the cat; she'd had a bath that day and broken the rules when she'd gotten out of bed – but she was fine.  Jack read each disjointed bit wondering when Winn would get to what was really bothering her.  It came at the very end of the letter.

_   Jack, are you sure that my staying silent is helping you?  Some . . . oh, I can't remember the word, but some important man came and talked to me with Norrington today.  Did I ever tell you that I knew him when he was a lieutenant?  He was on the Dauntless__ when the ship and the governor and __Elizabeth__ and Will and I all came over together.  We'd found Will somewhere west of the __Azores__.  But Hallington . . . he upset me, and I won't tell you what he did because I don't want to make you mad, but he left, and then Norrington asked me some questions that I didn't really know the answers to, and then I asked him what was going to happen to you, and he said that . . . there were blotches on the paper, presumably tears stains, __he said that even though the only reason you had be caught at all was because of me, that Hallington and the magistrate weren't going to let you go.  That they were going to . . . to sentence you based on everything else you'd done, and that Hallington would see that the sentence was carried out quickly. _

_   This wasn't a surprise, because . . . because I **knew** what the British would . . . I knew how they would see you.  But, you can't let that happen, Jack.  You can't.  Now more than ever, perhaps, I know what mother felt when that crewman came with the news of father's death.  I didn't understand how someone's soul could simply be snuffed out like a candle . . . but I don't think I can say that the same wouldn't happen to me if I ever got that news.  I don't know if I would die, not with a child, not with **your** child inside me, but I don't think I would ever recover._

_   You asked me to trust you, Jack, and you said that  you'd be back to get your trinket.  You'd better.  I'm just glad that you didn't send one of the ones that I gave you, otherwise I might give up hope altogether.  Jack, you'd better come back to me._

_   I'm being forced to go to the sentencing tomorrow, Jack.  I don't know if I'll be able to look at you, though, not without losing it, without challenging every official there to a fight to the death.  But I'll be listening for you, if that makes any sense.  I'm sorry.  I have to go because Grace is waiting to go to the fort now._

_   I love you._

   There was no signature.

   Jack sat against the rough stone wall and started thinking about how he was going to slip a fixed rope past the hangman and the Commodore.  If all he'd been missing before was motivation, then he had it now.  His wife trusted him and she needed him.  What else could he do but succeed?

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**Author's Thanks:**

**Dawnie****-7 **

**TaraRose**** – Tyndale was fun to write.  I'll let you in on a little secret – anytime there's a new POV, it's because I've got writer's block and I new something new to inspire me.  But Tyndale is a good guy to move the plot along.**

**VagrantCandy**

**KawaiiRyu**** – yes, I decided it was time to let Jack have some fun and mess with someone's head.  It's got to get rather boring in that cell.  ; )**

**lilitaliandragon** – **ok, point taken.  Just needed to have something a little over the top to get Norrington to sit up and take notice.  And I've been dying to use that line for weeks now.  I promise not to do things like that more than once though.  ^_^**

**SuzzieQue**** – you've got my condolences if that makes you feel any better.  Sometimes New Year's just isn't very good.  I have a friend whose mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor on New Years.  You've got my prayers.**

**BlueTrinity**** – hey, I am always up for a bit of useless information.  It does a body good.  ^_^  Anyway, you're right about Norrington, but that's all part of my master plan.  *evil grin***

**pirate-miss**** – very good questions.  Captain Ken will return chapter after next if all goes according to plan, and the sketchbook next chapter although I did make use of the skills this one.  Thanks for the reminder that it was time to get my butt in gear about that.  ; )**

**Ashley -**

**Leandra52**** – good question.  I've probably got at least another 50 pages on Word, which would be another 6-8 chapters.  I think.  Not sure about that.  I'm usually wrong about those things.  My goal is to be done with this fic sometime around the middle of Feb., then take a break from long stuff for a bit, then resume sometime between March and April.  Renew the mind.  ; )  Oh!  And new reviewer alert.  You can rock my palm tree candle.**

**bobo3**** – you already know everything I have to say to you.  : )  So, I'll catch you later.**

**LilaElensar**** – unscathed.  It's a good work.  Yay for pirate talk.  ^_^**

**CrazyCanoeingGIT**** – Jack's a big boy, and I most likely won't kill him because I'm scared of my reviewers.  ; )  But you'll just have to keep reading, won't you.  New reviewer alert for you as well.  Since you had a cold the last time you reviewed, you can rock my humidifier.**

**Golden Rose3 – **I'm glad you found Hallington to be a good character.  I really did simply introduce him to move the plot along.  : P  But he's a good guy to do that.

**BeBe**** – that was all unintentional on Jack's part and intentional on mine.  My devious little mind came up with a new twist to throw in.  My plot wasn't really inspiring me, but things are going to get good. ; )**


	28. Crash and Burn

**Author's Note: not mine, except for the ones I made, and I really can't think of anything else to say, so please read and enjoy.  ^_^  And don't kill me for the ending.**

**Clover?  jackfan2? Niamh?  Savvy-z?  ****Mrs.****NC****?  KawaiiRyu?  completeopposites?  Erica?  KamikazeCreamPuff?  PeleAmelika?  ao_hoshi?  Ginny-Star?  Honor?  Arwen?  SrpklingSatine?  bboarding323?  Talabar?  Rustic Zebra?  Kerry?  Have I bored you all, or do you simply hate me?  *whimpers*  I truly do notice my reviewers and I notice when 'regulars' don't review, and I hope that everything is going really good in all your lives, and if you have time, let me know how you are, because I haven't heard from you in weeks . . . . . ^_^**

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"Where is she?"  A tall man with brown hair and eyes forced his way past the maid who answered the door at the Morgan's house in Port Royal.

   "Sir, you can't just barge in here –"

   The man brushed windblown hair out of his face.  The scent of the sea clung to him.  "I most certainly can."  Ryan Morgan took pity on the small woman . . . child . . . answering the door.  None of the current problems were her fault.  "Look, please tell Grace that –"

   "Uncle Ry!"  The piercing cry of a happy four-year-old interrupted Ry from his request.  Knowing he'd get more help from Marcus' youngest daughter, he turned to greet Zoë.  The young girl eagerly jumped into his arms, squealing as he squeezed her around the middle.  "Uncle Ry!  I can't _breathe."  Her laughter made him think otherwise._

   "Tell me, bitling, where's your mama?"

   "Upstairs with Aunt Winn and missus Elizabeth."

   _That's what I wanted to know._  He set the child down.  "Is your poppa home?"

   "No.  He's meeting Commandeer Norrelton."  

   Ry hid a smile despite his anxiety for his sister.  "I think you mean 'Commodore Norrington,' bit."

    With the tone of an exasperated child, Zoë insisted, "That's what I _said_, Uncle Ryan.  You're _not listening very well.  Maybe you need to have some quiet time to think about how to listen better."  And having said that, she skipped off._

   "I'm sorry, Ry."  Ry looked up to see Grace come down the stairs.  "I'm afraid she was listening in on some of Elsa and Margaret's lessons and overheard the tutor say that."  Grace came over to accept a hug and a kiss on the cheek from her brother-in-law.  "I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad you are."

   "How is she?"

   "You heard?"

   "I heard that a woman named Winifred Smith was poisoned by her pirate lover and that today is his trial."  Ry rubbed his face.  "I would have been here sooner, but after giving in to Winn's wish to go after Jack – alone – I tailed the ship that picked her up until it made dock in Clarence Town on Long Island, right off the Exumas.  One of my men overheard an Italian crewman talking about how Jack Sparrow had finally been caught by the English navy, and so I hurried here, only to hear all these rumors.  I knew letting Winn go ashore alone was a bad idea."

   "Yes, well, things could have been a great deal worse.  And I know you and I know Winn, and I certainly know Captain Morgan – if she went ashore on her own then there was no other way around it."  The two started walking back up the stairs, Ry eager to see his sister.  "Winn and the babe are both alright for the time being, but . . . ."

   "Grace?"  The way she didn't finish the sentence made Ry's heart constrict.

   "You know how we've always given Jack a bad time about his luck, or lack thereof?"  Ry nodded.  "Well, things are no different in this case.  He surrendered himself to the British at what is possibly the worst possible time.  Commodore Norrington has recently received a visit from Paxton Tyndale, Lord Chancellor Hallington, in charge of ensuring that all is running smoothly in His Majesty's colonies."  

   Ry whistled at the enormity of the situation they were all in.  "He's pushing for a quick execution, isn't he?  That's why you said that Winn and the babe were alright for the time being."

   Grace nodded.  "The sentencing is this morning, in a little under an hour."  Ry noticed for the first time that Grace was dressed rather well for someone who stayed home most days.  "Winn's been ordered to attend by Hallington.  Marcus and I have done all we can to . . . release her from this obligation, but to no effect.  Even Norrington stuck his oar in.  In fact, the Commodore has been incredibly . . . sympathetic through all this.  More sympathetic than his reputation would lead one to believe possible.  I think he suspects that there's something going on between Winn and Jack that would lead him to surrender himself for a woman, but he hasn't made any accusations.  Which is less than can be said for Hallington."  They paused outside of Winn's room.

   "What has he been saying?"

   "More along the lines of Winn being an adulteress.  But that is neither here nor there at the moment.  I assume that now that you're here, you'll attend the sentencing with us?  Winn needs all the support she can get at the moment.  Especially since I doubt she's even strong enough to be sitting up for as long as this is likely to take."

   "Of course.  Can we go in?"  

   Grace nodded and opened the door.  "Winn?  You've got a visitor."

   Winn turned on the stool she was sitting on, making Elizabeth grumble as the other woman tried to adjust Winn's wig.  "Ry?"  Winn's voice trembled as she tried to keep from crying.  If this was any indication, she was never going to make it through the day.

   Ry quickly walked across the room and knelt by Winn, pulling his baby sister into his arms.  She leaned into him as tears leaked from her eyes.  "Aw, Freddy.  I'm so sorry."  She nodded.  "Listen, we're going to do what we can to make sure this child of yours gets the chance to know both its parents.  You hear me?"  Her head nodded on his shoulder.  "And we'll start by going to the sentencing."

   "I can't."

   "Winn, whose wife are you?"

   "Jack's."  Her voice was barely a whisper.

   "That's right.  What is Jack?"

   "A pirate."

   "That would make you what?"

   "A pirate's wench."  She inhaled shakily.  "And I will behave like one, no matter how out of place I feel in these skirts."  Winn pulled away from her brother.  "I will be strong so that Jack can be strong."

   "There's my Freddy."  Ry took her hands.  "We're going to be there every step of the way."

   "Well, you and Grace will."  She gave a laugh that was somewhere between a sob and a gasp.  "Marcus has to stay with his commanding officer, and Will and Elizabeth have been banned from the proceedings by Hallington."  Ry looked up at Elizabeth who nodded.  Winn continued, staring at her lap.  "He learned that they helped Jack escape the last time and he doesn't want to take any risks."

   "Guess he doesn't know what he just invited into the courtroom then."

   Winn took a deep breath to calm herself.  She wished she could be considered a risk . . . to Hallington.  But she had the feeling that the only risk her presence would bring would be to Jack.

"You surprise me, Sparrow.  I would have assumed you'd be awake by now."

   Jack rolled his eyes as he lay on the stone ledge that ran along the wall.  "Forgive me for not being terribly eager to start the day, Commodore, but legal proceedings have always . . . bored me to death."  Jack, while not in the best of moods, was more than willing to play with the minds of the men who'd come to assist Norrington.  "Although, I must admit that it's a beautiful day to be condemned to the noose."  He glanced over at the Commodore and his men; the men were bewildered and Norrington had a look of strained patience on his face.  _Killjoy.  "Very well, if you're going to be so _grim_ about it."_

   Jack stood up and walked over the door of the cell, which was open, and allowed two of the redcoats to fasten irons around his wrists and ankles.  "Not so tight, lads.  I have enough difficulty walking on land as it is."

   Norrington looked down at Jack's feet.  Then he looked at the man who'd fastened them.  With raised eyebrows and a voice that conveyed incompetence of the men around him, he asked, "How do you expect the man to walk if he cannot feel his feet?"

   "But Commodore, sir –"

   "Loosen them, Mr. Cooper, unless you wish to end up carrying Mr. Sparrow into the courtroom."  The man got to work.

   "Thank you, Commodore.  Only think how embarrassin' it'd be to be hauled in for judgment like a bag of flour."

   Norrington looked Jack in the eye, and Jack let his façade drop for a moment.  "I take no pleasure in this, Mr. Sparrow."  Jack nodded, and with measured steps, left his cell.

Winn sat on her bench, leaning against Ry's side.  She was doing her best to catch her breath quietly, not wanting to let either Ry or Grace know how much the walk up the steps and down the aisle had fatigued her.  She didn't know how much success she was having, because Ry had wrapped an arm around her shoulders to help support her and Grace was leaning over to talk to her.

   "Are you alright?"

   "Yes, Grace."

   "Are you feeling any pain?"

   "No."  _Slight discomfort, yes, but I can deal with slight discomfort._

   Grace looked at Winn as if she knew what her rebellious sister-in-law was thinking.  Winn looked back, carefully schooling her features into overt innocence.  Grace could only look at that face for so long before breaking into a small smile.  "You look just like your husband when you do that."

   "I know."  Winn tensed as the magistrate came into the room.  The room was packed for the hearing, and the people around her all stood up, but she was glad to have an excuse not to.  It saved her from having to either lie or be thrown out for not showing proper respect.

   The magistrate sat down, his powdered wig and stark black robe a dramatic contrast to the unpainted boards of the walls.  His face was a mask of bored indifference.  Winn immediately hated him.  A man's life was at stake – the least he could do was feign interest.  "Grace?  Ry?  I can't do this."

   "Winn –"

   "I'm not going to be able sit here and stay quiet.  I can't.  I ca–"

   "Bring in the prisoner."  Both Grace and Ry felt Winn freeze under their hands.  Winn wasn't aware that she'd frozen, wasn't aware that she was having difficulty breathing . . . but Norrington was.  He was watching her from where he sat between Hallington and Marcus.  He'd noticed that his young captain was being very careful not to look in the direction of his wife and her patient – which raised its own questions – but Norrington wanted to see how the woman was going to react.  The Commodore felt a surge of frustration as he found that her expression could be interpreted as either fear _of Sparrow, or fear __for Sparrow.  Based on his other observations, he'd guess that it was the latter, but events didn't let him ponder this for long._

   The doors creaked open.  The sound of heavy chains jangling caused Winn's heart to start beating painfully.  _Jack . . .  She fought the urge to turn around and stare at the husband she hadn't seen in a week, to drink him in with her eyes.  Instead, she bowed her head and stared at her hands; at some point Grace had reached over to take her hand.  Winn squeezed it as she fought to control her unruly emotions.  Against her hopes, the pen for holding the accused was in front of the room instead of to the side . . . and she'd been seated right in front of it.  Jack was going to be so close . . . and she wouldn't be able to do anything._

   The clanking of chains continued.  Winn imaged that her heart contracted with each measured footstep.  Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.  _I can do this.  I **have to do this.  I will be strong for Jack.  I won't break down in front of Hallington.**_  Winn took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and squared her shoulders.  _"Keep fighting."_  Jack's voice rang in her head.  _I will.  I'm the wife of a pirate.  I will behave in a manner of which he can be proud.  She would, but she still wasn't ready to look up from her lap._

   Ry was seated on the aisle, and past his shoulder, out of the corner of her eye, Winn saw a flash of red.  The chains sounded louder than ever.  _There has to be more than that._  Winn strained her ears and caught a fainter clack and jingle under the rattle of chains – Jack's baubles.  The ones in his hair.  _I can do this._

  Winn sat between her brother and sister-in-law, with bowed head and eyes for another five or ten minutes as the proceedings got under way.  The magistrate was slowly reading the standard list of charges against Jack.  After each charge, Hallington would confirm Jack's guilt by listing where or against whom each act had been committed.  Needless to say, this took awhile.

   Jack used the time to glance around the courtroom, occasionally letting his eyes rest on Winn.  She looked exhausted – she'd been up most the night, undoubtedly, worrying over him.  In the short time since he'd last seen her, it seemed as if she'd gained some weight around her middle, although what he could see of her face seemed to testify that she'd actually lost weight.  He hid a smile at the appearance of her 'proper Englishwoman' wig and the spectacles perched on her nose.  She was wearing a dress that had been dyed a soft mauve, and she had kidskin gloves on her hands.  The picture she presented was very proper, very fragile, and very deceiving.  If he knew his wife, she was planning horrible fates for everyone involved in this mockery of justice.  If he had known how close she was to losing it, he would have been very surprised.

   Winn heard Jack fidgeting.  She couldn't blame him – the list of charges went on for some time, and few of them were new.  She'd lost track of what was being said long ago, instead focusing her energy into keeping her back straight, her face free of tears, and her ears filled with any sound that Jack might be making.

   "Are you doing alright?"  

   Winn nodded in response to her brother's quiet question as she shifted in her seat.  Her back was complaining about its lack of support; her abdominal muscles were cramping from the demand she was placing on them to keep her posture straight.  They'd become lazy during her days lying in bed.  Her mind had long ago started to numb itself to what was going on around her, preparing for the sentencing at the end.  Without that preparation, she'd loose it when her husband's sentence was declared, even though she knew what it would be.  By this point, she was close to being able to observe the proceedings with an indifferent eye.  _I wonder if I could look at Jack.  The need to do so had been growing steadily for nearly half an hour now.  Winn bit her lip, took a deep breath, and then looked up covertly, trying to appear as if she were still studying the ground._

   Jack was standing flanked by two redcoats and had an extremely bored look on his face.  She knew that look – he was somewhere else entirely, his mind occupied by charting a new course for the _Pearl, or making some plan, or reviewing known shipping schedules.  Or perhaps he was thinking about the past few weeks._

   Winn found her eyes drifting over his body.  Her heart screamed at the sight of his hands in irons, but when she heard another clanking and realized his ankles were also chained, she bit into her lip hard enough to hurt.  This wasn't a sentencing, it was public humiliation.  _Why didn't they just put him in the stocks?  No.  Don't think about that.  Thinking about that would simply lead her to do something stupid, and stupidity couldn't be afforded now.  She moved her gaze and forcefully pushed her mind on to a new topic._

   He was dirty.  Winn let out a small huff.  She'd worked long and hard to find clothing that was worn and disheveled enough to suit the image that Jack liked to project, but wasn't ragged or dirty enough to drive her insane.  But what he was wearing now . . . it was going to have to be burned.  They'd been fine after two weeks of captivity on Gandolfi's ship, but after a week in a jail cell . . . just the thought was unbearable.  _They're not even fit for rags._  

   Winn's eyes moved on, skipping past Jack's face for the time being.  _They took his hat.  Indignation was followed by confusion.  _Or did he have it when we left the other ship?_  The other ship . . . she'd been poisoned . . . her child might have been permanently harmed . . . Jack had surrendered himself . . . .  _No!_  Winn's eyes skipped down to her husband's face to distract her thoughts._

   His face was nearly as dirty as his clothes, or at least the part not obscured by hair was.  At least she hoped it was dirt and not bruises.  _I hope he doesn't decide that he wants to re-grow those braids.  His beard is near long enough, but I prefer him without them.  They take away from the rest of his face._  And his moustache needed trimming.  She'd have to make sure to take care of that.  Winn realized she was thinking like he was going to be going home with her after this was all done.  _But I have to believe that this will turn out alright.  That somehow I'll have the chance to trim his beard and burn those clothes . . . otherwise . . . . _

   She'd missed him.  She'd missed him more than she'd realized.  _I don't know why.  I've gone for longer without seeing him.  When I visit my family for a fortnight at a time.  That time when I went back to __England__.  For the nearly three months before Anamaria and Gibbs brought the news.  I guess it's just that **so much has happened that I've needed him for . . . and he wasn't able to be there because I made him make a choice.  Winn let out a rather shaky breath, then looked at Jack's eyes.  Not matter what else might be happening, his eyes would tell her the truth.**_

   Despite the circles that testified to long, sleepless nights, his eyes themselves were bright . . . bright enough to make her suspicious of what he might be planning.  She knew that look as well.  He was thinking about doing something incredibly risky, and therefore challenging, and therefore she was automatically going to hate it.  _That, or I'm becoming extremely paranoid.  Wha–"_  Was it her imagination, or had Jack just winked at her?  Winn felt a bit of hope twine into the ropes of desolation that were wrapping her mind in a stranglehold.

   "And the manner in which Mister Sparrow arrived in Port Royal?"

   Jack mouthed 'Captain Sparrow.'

   Winn felt her mouth twitch into a small, unsure smile.

   Hallington approached the magistrate's bench.  "We have written statements to present, Magistrate Chandler."  He handed over a small sheaf of papers.

   "Thank you, Lord Chancellor."  The magistrate looked over the papers.  "I don't see a statement from the woman involved," he said quietly to Hallington.

   "Is it missing?"  Hallington's voice was blandly innocent.  "Well, Mrs. Smith is in the courtroom – it would take no time to question her so that you may gain the information you need."

   Chandler thought about it for a moment.  All he really wanted to do was get this over with so he could leave.  He'd had an early breakfast and was now ready for his midday.  "Very well.  If you would please call the woman forward, Lord Hallington?"

   "Certainly."  Hallington turned from the magistrate's bench and announced, "Winifred Smith, please come forward for questioning."

   Jack watched as his wife's head snapped up like a doe scenting danger.  The blood drained from her face, leaving her paler than he'd seen her since they'd first realized what Gandolfi had done to her, and it appeared as if she was having difficulty breathing.

   "Mrs. Smith?"

   Winn was shaking her head in denial and barely suppressed panic.  This was why she hadn't wanted to come.  Grace leaned over and spoke to her in a quiet voice, earning another violent headshake.  Jack felt his heart twist at the helplessness on his wife's face.  It was clear that she shouldn't be here, that she shouldn't be out of bed.

   Grace had had enough.  It was bad enough that Winn had been drug out of bed to sit through a lengthy recitation of the crimes her husband was charged with, worse that she'd had to witness as self-righteous men tried to humiliate her husband, but the false pretences that had been used to get her to testify were the last straw.  Grace looked at Marcus and Norrington – they were both plainly upset by this latest occurrence; she looked at Jack – his eyes asked her to help Winn.  _That . . . is . . . it._  She stood.  "Excuse me, Lord Chancellor, Magistrate Chandler, but I must protest."

   Pompously, the magistrate started to say, "Your concerns have been given due consideration, Mrs. Morgan –"

   "I don't believe they have, sir."  Grace would not be patronized.  "Over my expressed and strenuous 'concerns,' my patient has been dragged from her sickbed while she's barely strong enough to sit upright.  She's weak and still recovering from a traumatic physical and emotional ordeal, and now she's being asked to share that before strangers who will see her story spread through the length and breadth of Port Royal before sunset?"

   "You are out of order, Mrs. Morgan."

   "No. You are.  _Look at her.  Look at her!  She's nowhere near –"_

   "You will have a seat, Mrs. Morgan," the magistrate thundered, "before I evict you from this courtroom for improper conduct.  Is that understood?"

   "Ry.  Make her sit."  Winn's voice was weak but insistent.  She didn't want anyone else getting into trouble on her account.  Ry looked at his sister, then reached over to pull on his sister-in-law's arm.  Grace reluctantly took her seat.  At a nod from Hallington, two soldiers came forward to help Winn from her seat.  "I can do this," she whispered to herself and her family as the men took her arms to help her up.

   Jack watched in pained silence as Winn managed to take two or three small steps before her knees buckled and she let out a muted groan.  Her arms made an aborted move towards her stomach, but the hands on her arms kept her from completing the motion.  Ry was there to support her, but Jack had had enough.  What he was about to do was foolhardy, but he couldn't stand by as Winn struggled to keep her dignity and her composure for his sake.  She was in no condition to do anything, and too weak to keep herself and their child safe.  Which left things up to him.

   "So, now the courts have taken to persecuting helpless women who are also with child.  No wonder I find more civilized men on the sea."

   "_No_," Winn whispered as she heard her husband address the magistrate and the chancellor in his most insolent tone.  A tone that would ensure severe punishment.  One did not just mock important men without consequence.  She fought to stand upright once again, to show Jack that he had nothing to fight for – that she could defend herself – but her legs weren't cooperating.  

   Hallington smiled.  This was what he wanted.  He motioned for the magistrate to stay silent.  Then, ignoring Jack for the time being, he asked Winn, "Can you, or can you not stand on your own two feet, Mrs. Smith."

   Why was he doing this?  Winn didn't understand why he was so set on humiliating Jack and humiliating her.  Taking a deep breath, she managed to get her feet under her – she'd die before letting him win.

   Marcus started to stand, but Norrington stopped him.  Instead the Commodore himself stood and said, "I believe this is all unnecessary, Lord Hallington.  There are three people in this room who were present during Mrs. Smith's questioning yesterday.  Surely between the three of us, we can remember all that was said."

   "Hold your peace, Commodore."

   "I cannot, not as long as the officials of this court are behaving in manner unbefitting of their station."

   "Don't."  Despite the fact that she was having difficulty walking, Winn's mind was working, thrown back into the moment by the chaos that had arisen around her.  "I don't want anyone else getting in trouble on my account."  She took another step forward, then collapsed as muscles grown lazy from too much bedrest turned to jelly.  She fell, pulling free of the hands supporting her.  She caught herself on the rail around Jack's pen before hitting the ground.

   Jack jumped forward as Winn let out a low cry, afraid that she'd exerted too much energy . . . that the pain that Gandolfi had started was starting again.

   The court turned into a circus around them as Winn felt Jack's hands come to rest on hers.  "Just a charley horse," she panted as her leg throbbed with more pain that should be possible.  She looked up into Jack's eyes, and he was surprised at the amount of panic there.  "You have to get away from me.  They'll use this."

   "Lass –"

   "Guards!"  Winn felt hands pulling her up from her crouch as more hand roughly pulled Jack away from her.

   "No!  He was just trying to help me!"  She struggled to face Hallington.

   "Freddy, calm down.  You have to calm down.  You're going to hurt the babe."  Winn looked up to find that Marcus was one of the men helping her stay upright.

   "I'm sorry for putting you in such a dangerous situation, Mrs. Smith.  I can assure you that Sparrow will be duly punished for trying to take you hostage."

   "What?"  _No._  _Jack was just trying to help me._  "I –"

   "You are clearly overset.  Captain Marcus, your wife can take her patient home now.  I believe things can be settled without her assistance."

   "What, may I ask, is Sparrow's punishment to be, Chancellor."  Winn looked to her other side and found that Norrington was the other man holding her up.

   "Thirty-five lashes."  Hallington motioned for the guards to take Jack outside.

   _No._  Winn looked at her husband as he tried to put up some resistance.  "That's more than his actions deserve."  _The blood loss that would cause . . . ._

   "The pirate vermin is being punished for his intentions, his actions, and the disrespect he showed this court and its officials."  Hallington turned to leave.  "And should events conspire to support this court's ruling, he will face the noose in three days time."  Winn couldn't help it, this news was too much.  Her husband was twice sentenced to die and it was her fault.  With more than a little relief, she fainted.

   Norrington watched as Winn was carried out by Marcus and the man that had been pointed out at her brother.  If he looked closely, she bore a strong family resemblance to both men.  The last of the puzzle clicked into place.  _One of these days, Sparrow, I'm going to catch you in an actual act of piracy.  He would stop by the Morgan residence later that night, but for the moment he had best go see what could be done for Sparrow._

"How is she?"

   Grace shook her head as she took a seat at the kitchen table.  "Unresponsive.  She hasn't said a word since she woke up."  Winn had awakened from her faint several hours before, and since then had sat in her bed staring out the window, ignoring all who came to talk to her.  The only action she displayed was she kept twisting her wedding ring around and around on her finger.

   It was just Grace, Ry, Elizabeth, and Will at the house.  Marcus had gone to the fort to see how bad off Jack was and if anything could be done for him.  No one had much hope that Hallington would allow anything to be done.  

   Grace sighed.  "I think it's best to give her some time to herself right now . . . at least until we have something to tell her."

   The four sat in silence for another hour before Marcus came home, bringing a visitor with him.  No one knew what to say when Norrington entered the kitchen.  They all wanted news as to how Jack was, but couldn't ask in front of the Commodore.

   "Grace, the Commodore would like to know if it would be possible for him to speak to Winifred.  Alone."

   Grace thought for a moment, examining Norrington as she did.  The man was plainly tired, he'd taken off his hat in respect to the women in the room, and he had an air of regret around him.  "I suppose that would be alright, but if Winifred asks you to leave –"

   "I shall immediately depart.  I understand, Mrs. Morgan."  Norrington hesitated before continuing, "And I apologize for this morning.  It was unclear to me just how far the Lord Chancellor would go to regain his dignity."

   Elizabeth spoke up.  "It's not your fault, James.  From what Grace and Marcus have told us, you did what you could to keep event from . . . unfolding the way they did."

   "Thank you, I only wish that I could have done more."  Norrington bowed to Grace and Elizabeth, "Now, if you'll excuse me."  He left the room.

   For several seconds, silence reigned in the kitchen.  "Marcus, what's going on?  How's Jack?  What does the Commodore want to talk to Winn about?"  Marcus shook his head as he took a seat next to his wife.

   "I'm not sure what Norrington wishes to discuss with Freddy.  I think that today's events raised some questions for him."

   "But she's not in danger, is she?"

   "No."

   "And Jack?"  Marcus glanced at his older brother – they both had experience with the damage a whip could do to a person.  The only good thing about this situation was that Winn hadn't been present to see it.  Taking a deep breath, Marcus looked at Will to answer his question.

   "Not good.  They didn't even bother to take his shirt off before starting in, and then they threw him back in his cell.  Without medical attention . . . I'm not sure he'll make it to see the morning of his execution."

The room that Norrington walked into was dark except for the light of a single candle and the dying sun.  He didn't bother announcing himself since his knock on the door had gone unanswered.  The woman he'd come to see was a pale blotch on the bed, otherwise surrounded by the dark.  He was surprised to see that her hair was no longer than her shoulders, not nearly long enough for the hairstyle she'd been wearing earlier in the day.

   "Coming to offer more . . . _assurances, Commodore Norrington?"  Winn paid the man no real attention as he came closer to the bed.  It didn't matter.  She had nothing left to hide, or at least no reason to continue hiding anything._

   Norrington slowed in his approach.  This was not a woman who grieved for a man who'd helped her.  "I know about your connection to the Morgans, Winifred."

   Winn nodded.  "Please, call me Winn.  I've always hated my first name."  She sighed.  "I suppose it would be hard to miss if I were sandwiched between my two brothers.  With just one of them . . . coincidence.  With two there's a strong family resemblance.  I've always said it was something about the nose, or perhaps the eyes."  _Jack has beautiful eyes._

   Norrington looked down as something crinkled under his foot – a piece of paper.  He reached down to pick it up, turning it over when the side facing him was blank.  It was a picture of Jack Sparrow and a rather large dog – the one that had been found with the woman.  "Jack never really got along with Pigeon, although he tolerated her for my sake.  Do you think he was jealous of  a dog?"  Winn glanced over at Norrington, then back to the window.  "That would be silly . . . he's ever so much more entertaining than a dog, although not as obedient.  Pige comes when I call her.  See?"  Norrington looked around the room to see a large dog approaching the bed.  It had long silvery hair that curled near the ends, and it had to be at least three feet tall at the shoulder.

   Playing his hunch, he asked, "There's no 'Mr. Smith,' is there?"

   "Yes, there is.  My mother's maiden name was Smith, so my grandfather on that side was Mr. Smith.  And Smith is a very common name."  Winn let out a humorless laugh.  "If you insist on disturbing my melancholy, Commodore, please do have a seat and stop lurking at the corners of my vision.  I do believe it's giving me a headache."

   The Commodore paused, then picked up an entire sheaf of drawings before taking the seat to the side of the bed.  As he sat, he noticed that there were papers strewn over the length and breadth of the bed as well as on the floor surrounding it.  He looked at the ones he'd picked up; Sparrow at what was presumably the wheel of his ship, Sparrow with a mass of young children, Sparrow and the woman sitting on a beach on a blanket spread under some shade; Sparrow asleep; Sparrow with a look of pain on his face as a man behind him held a whip.  The woman hadn't been present for the pirate's inflated punishment – it was clear though that she was no stranger to what happened when a man was whipped.  "Mrs. Sparrow, I presume."

   "We killed him, you and I.  Or we will kill him."  Winn's voice was clear, but several tears started making their way down her cheeks.  "You because of the country, and the law, and the king you represent; I for the duty I came to mean to him."  Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the covers in a stranglehold.  "Things weren't supposed to end this way.  It was my fault he was captured, and then I went to get him back because we all thought that I was the one the merchant wanted, but we were wrong.  He wanted my baby, and he wanted Jack, but I was supposed to be left behind to mourn.  I didn't know mourning could be this cold."

   "He's not dead yet."

   "He will be.  He'll be lucky to even be awake in three days after thirty-five lashes.  Any plan for escape hinges on him being conscious at the very least."  The conversation dropped off for several minutes as Winn stared out her window and absently wondered what Norrington was doing here.  If he was looking to arrest her for piracy, he might well have enough evidence by now to arrest her.  Somewhere she knew that wasn't a good thing, but she really couldn't work up the energy to care.  Her entire body ached, her mind was numb, her spirit crumbling, her heart bleeding.  _When one's heart breaks, you don't bleed to death, she decided.  __You cry yourself to death, and it takes awhile because you never seem to care enough to actually weep.  "Do you know that pirates have oaths they keep, Commodore?"_

   "No, I wasn't aware of that.  And please, call me James."

   Winn nodded, accepting part of his statement, or all of it, or merely acknowledging it.  "They do.  There are three oaths a man keeps on the sea; those made to his crew, and those made claiming revenge, and those he makes to his wife."

   "Are there certain oaths a pirate makes to his wife?"

   "Yes."  She let out a soft smile, and her hands started playing with something that flashed in the light – a ring.  "He promises to stay true to her, to guard her life with is own, and never abandon her when she needs him.  And she in turn, promises the same thing."

   "Did Sparrow make those promises to you?"

   "Yes.  And I made them to him.  Apparently he should have found someone more likely to keep her promises."

   "You lied?"

   "Not intentionally.  But I'm not at his side right now, am I?  I did nothing to keep Hallington from harming him, did I?"

   "You had other concerns.  I'm sure that," Norrington swallowed, then continued, "I'm sure that Sparrow would have you look after your child before looking after him."

   Winn laughed wetly.  "For a man who doesn't like pirates, you sound very much like my husband."

   "Where's the _Black Pearl, Winn?"_

   "I told you, my husband's ship took heavy damage and is being repaired."

   "Who damaged it?"  Winn shook her head, not wanting to answer the question.  Norrington pressed on anyway.  "Was it the same man who poisoned you?"

   The man who'd poisoned her to kill her child, the man who'd set them adrift so Jack would surrender himself to death for her sake, the man who Jack was never going to be able to kill because she'd killed Jack before he could kill the merchant.  "Yes."  He'd destroyed her home, had destroyed the place that held so many of her memories of Jack, had destroyed her family, her budding dreams for a new future.  For a new horizon.

   "What is his name, Winifred?  Tell me.  He deserves to face the Crown's justice even more than Sparrow does."  Winn shook her head, still unwilling to tell.  "Every time I've had the opportunity to arrest your husband, it's because he's taken the time to help someone.  He saved Elizabeth from drowning, he helped Will to break the curse that bound his mutinous crew, and he gave himself up for you.  I've never heard a story or report that said Jack Sparrow had spilt unnecessary blood.  Tell me who this man is."

   "He's not English, he's an Italian . . . ."

   "There are still steps that can be taken to bring him to justice.  The first is seeing him in custody."  Norrington set his sheaf of drawings on Winn's bedside table, catching her attention.  "Tell me his name."

   "He's a merchant, and his name is . . . Ignazio Gandolfi."  Winn's voice was barely above a whisper.  "I wasn't supposed to tell you."

   "Why not?"

   "Because I accidentally killed his son years ago.  He shot me first and I had a gun in my hand . . . and it just went off.  But Gandolfi didn't believe that."  Winn looked at Norrington.  "Are you going to arrest me for what I've said, Commodore?"

   "No.  There's been enough injustice done for Sparrow and those close to him.  I won't add to it."

   Winn nodded, then went back to looking out her window.  "He's a good man . . . ."

   "So I've been informed."

   ". . . but so are you."  Tears were coming faster now.  "My brother Ryan knows where Gandolfi is.  Now, if you'll leave me alone?  I find that it's harder to become a widow than I thought."

   Norrington left the room to go speak to Marcus and his brother.

Norrington was at work early the next morning when Hallington burst into his office.  In a dangerously controlled voice the Chancellor informed him, "Sparrow has escaped.  He's not in his cell."  Norrington carefully finished writing the report he was working on.  "I must wonder at the competence of the men at this fort and of their commanding officer if a man as badly beaten as Sparrow was allowed to –"

   The Commodore replaced his quill in his inkpot, then interrupted Hallington.  "Sparrow did not escape."

   "Commodore, if Sparrow is receiving medical attention against my expressed orders, then it will be your job, if not your head for treason."

   "Search the infirmary if you must, but you will not find Sparrow there."

   "Then where is he, Commodore?"

   "When I returned to the fort last night, I was informed that Sparrow had died from the wounds he received earlier in the day.  I ordered the body removed from his cell so it would not start to stink with the heat of the coming day.  I assume his remains were thrown into the sea.  A fitting end, if you ask me."

   Hallington smiled.  "I will have to check your story, of course, but I doubt I will find anything out of order.  Very well, Commodore.  Good day."  The Chancellor left the room and Norrington wondered what he was doing."

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**Author's Note 2 – ok**, lied about that being all I had to say.  Also have to say that** I posted a new One Shot – **this one is an** Elizabeth POV **based on the 'Peas in a Pod' line.  Go read it.  Now.  ^_^

Also, wanted to let you all know about** a new story on the site.  It's called **'Never Been to ******Singapore****', and it's**** by French Connection, a great girl I'm beta-ing for.  So go read it.  : P**

**Author's Thanks:** I don't have the time to thank each and every one of you in depth, and for that I am sorry, but school AND this story have joined forces to kick my butt and I still have homework . . . and I'm sorry.  Next chapter, I promise.

**Erica Dawn**

**bobo3******

**Dawnie****-7**

**Leandra52******

**VagrantCandy******

**pirate-miss******

**lilitaliandragon******

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**ArtemisRain**** – new reviewer!  Welcome.**

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**nightskyflight** – **new reviewer as well.  When you get here, many thanks for the review of chapter 15**

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**Oh, and a note here.  If I've never heard from you, but you have me on your favorites or author alert list (I know who you all are ^_^) but I've never heard from you, drop me a line.  I love hearing what I'm doing right, what you think I might be doing wrong, and what you think I could possibly do better.  I take all input under consideration.  ; )**


	29. Breathing

**OMg****, you guys are amazing.  I got so much feed back of the last chapter.  For all of you who reviewed, here's an extra long chapter.  Please read through the entire thing before you decide to hate me.  ; )**

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_   Osprey Point . . . _Kendra scowled at the seemingly empty landscape that went in every direction.  _Who'd have thought it to be so big?  _She trudged onward, wishing that she had some faster way to get to Swallows Rest than her own two feet. 

   Dull thuds drifted into her ears and she paused, trying to identify the sound.  _Hoof beats.  A horse, likely approaching from behind._  She turned and spotted the solitary horse and rider with ease.  She put a hand on her pistol and kept walking.  _No need to be lax.  Can't forget that I'm still on a pirate inhabited island.  Have to keep my guard up. _

   The horse and rider slowed to a walk when they reached her, the blond man looking to her curiously.

   "Are you lost?"

   Kendra only spared the man a quick glance.  "Only if the townspeople give faulty directions.  Swallows Rest is up ahead, is it not?"

   "It is."  He gained an amused tone.  "And what business do you have there?"

   She looked up again, this time far more agitated.  "What is it to you?  Are you a Morgan, too?"

   His grin broadened.  "I'm a family friend.  Alex Thompson.  Who might you be?"

   "Ken of the _Dilettante_," she grumbled.  Her boots were soft, supple and had served her well, but she'd never walked two miles straight in them.  Let alone on so little sleep and food.  "How much farther is it?"

   "A little more than two miles, I think."

   Her head shot up. "The house is _four miles_ outside of town?"

   Alex nodded, barely holding back the amusement he felt looking at Kendra's shocked and disgusted expression.  "The Captain likes his privacy."

   "Well," Kendra glanced down the remainder of the road once more.  "Aren't I in a fix?"

   Giving what he took to be a very small pirate a cursory examination, Alex patted the empty space on his saddle.  "I could take you the rest of the way."

   Kendra hid her unease.  Sitting right in front of this unknown man was a risk, but one that sounded all the more tempting by the moment.  Especially considering how the road ahead of her simply did not seem to end.  "And no harm will come to me?"

   "I give you my word.  I was heading to the house myself.  I heard some news in town that I thought Captain Morgan might be interested in."  _Not to mention Cat.  But at least this will give everyone something to worry about other than the Captain's failing health._

   Kendra walked a bit closer to the horse and stuck out a hand, "An accord.  No harm to either of us."

   "Agreed," Alex leaned over and shook her hand, surprised at the strong grip. 

   "So," Kendra looked curiously at the stirrup and different components of the saddle. "How do I get on?"

   Alex chuckled. "Keep your firm grip and I can pull you up."

   She nodded, tightening her grip, glad of her small size as he lifted her off the ground and within reach of the saddle.  Kendra grabbed onto the front of the saddle and somehow managed to fumble her way through mounting a horse for the first time.

   Alex was dimly reminded of the last time he'd had a passenger sitting in front of him.  It had been Winn, fleeing after her grandfather's rather firm and unexpected declaration that she marry.  Ken was smaller, lighter, and seemingly much stronger than Winn; he smiled down at the pirate looking up at him.

   "Ready to go?"

   Kendra nodded.  "I only wish to know how to stay securely on the horse."

   Alex clicked his tongue and his horse started walking again.  He set his free hand on his thigh, the other holding the reins, scooting up a little closer to be more comfortable and decrease the risk of falling off.  "Don't worry yourself, at low speeds you only need to keep your balance."

   "And if we were to go faster?"  She did not much appreciate the odd jolt of the horse's gait, slight as the disturbances were.

   "I'll make sure you stay on."  His smile did little to comfort her, despite how kind it appeared.

   The two rode in silence, until the gathering clouds started to give an ominous look to the landscape and thunder sounded in the air, rain beginning to fall.  Alex glanced down at Kendra, noting that she was looking at nothing in particular, almost seeming to be in a stupor of some sort.

   "Are you ready to go faster, Ken?"

   She looked over her shoulder at him.  "Over a little rain?  Is it necessary to increase our speed?"

   "We've still got a mile to go."

   Kendra sighed.  "I suppose I could tolerate it."

   Alex nodded and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her next to him and squeezing the horse's side, clicking his tongue more urgently now.  The horse snorted and shifted to a faster gait, a gallop.  Kendra was, to say the least, a bit unprepared for this.  The feeling of riding a walking horse unsettled her, but being jerked against this man and subjected to an entirely new 'jolt' below her . . . was definitely a shock.

   To remedy her unease, she put her trust in Alex's accord, letting herself ignore the warning signs flashing within her.  Particularly from the lack of anxiety she was feeling from the closeness of Alex's warm – and from what she could tell – quite strong body.   She felt herself slowly grow calmer.  Her surroundings were blurred from the speed the horse was traveling, Alex's larger frame blocked out much of the cold, refreshing rain, and she now realized that his close proximity to her was becoming strangely . . . pleasant.  Almost to the point where she could ignore the unease of the horse's gait and fall asleep . . . sleep was very tempting.

_   Ignore it,_ she took a breath, hoping to keep herself awake.  _Remember the things that have kept me alive.  One man's warm body is no reason to get worked up.  Besides, I have a job to do.  Keep an eye on Winn, Sparrow's pregnant wife.  I don't know who I can and can't trust.  Cursed Sparrow . . . having me come to this absurd island and have to keep an eye on **everyone**.  Really, there's only so much a person can do, pirate or not._

   Alex had noticed Kendra's frantic fluctuation between tensing and slackening her muscles, but as they were in full gallop, he might as well keep going.  He kept his concentration on keeping the two on the horse, and was relieved when he felt the smaller pirate slowly relax, loosening and making his job of balancing himself and his passenger much easier.  Pulling Kendra closer to improve his balance, he mindlessly noted just how scrawny she was.  _Wonder what the boy is here for?_  "Here it is," Kendra barely heard him above the storming weather.__

   Nodding numbly, she was glad to see the large estate ahead of them, and even more grateful to see the covered area that he would likely go under.  Kendra nearly had the wind knocked out of her as her jerked the horse to a stop under the covered area, his arm jerking into her gut unexpectedly.  He released her and looked down at her.  _He looks all right. _

   Alex swung his leg over and hopped off the horse, flipping the reins over the horse's head, "Need a hand down?"

   Kendra looked over the situation and shook her head, gripping the front of the saddle firmly, swinging her leg over and sliding off, landing on unsteady legs.  Every muscle of her legs - muscles she didn't even know she had - ached.

   "You can wait until I've stabled Lucifer or head in yourself."

   _Lucifer?_  Kendra looked over the horse – it was the pale tan of many of the Caribbean's sandy beaches, and from what she could tell, had a decent temperament.  _But what do I know of horses?  _She spared a glance for the horse's owner and then nodded. "I'll head in."  Biting her lip as walking took a bit more effort than she preferred, she could have sworn she heard Alex laughing at her.  _Never going to ride one of those horses again.  Definitely not a preferable thing.  Now, to get into this estate and finally get this errand started.  Even if Sparrow's wife isn't here, I can use the time to look over the territory and get to know the help._

   The door had a porch over it and Kendra was glad for it.  Knocking quickly, she then shook off her coat and hoped it would dry soon, along with the rest of her.  Her stomach growled mercilessly and she did her best to ignore it.  The door opened slowly to an older manservant. 

   "What brings you here, young sir?"

_   Mistaken as a boy once again . . . might as well continue the façade.  _"I've been sent here by Captain Sparrow.  I'm to see Captain Morgan as soon as possible.  I have a pass, but . . . could I please step inside?  It is a mite cold out here." 

   The servant nodded and stepped to the side as if used to strange people showing up at unexpected times.  Kendra wondered what that had to say about this family, but didn't linger on the thought.  The man closed the door and waited for Kendra to present her pass.

   Kendra shook out her coat once more, then pulled out the thankfully dry note, handing it to the servant.  "I'll be expecting that back, of course."

   The servant scanned the two pages of the note quickly and lifted his gaze to her once more.  "Of course," he handed back the note and held out an arm.

   She looked at him in confusion. "What?"

   "I know it might not seem like it lad, but we do try to stick to some of the niceties around here.  It's customary for a coat to be removed when entering a household . . . not to mention you're near to soaking wet, and I can get that dried for you."  He winked.

   "Oh, yes, of course."  Kendra cursed her slip up, then changed her mind.  She'd had propriety pounded into her head years earlier, but had not thought of it for quite some time.  However, this man seemed rather laid back so she felt a little better about forgetting.  _And what do cabin boys know about proper manners?  _She put the note gently into her mouth, struggled to get her coat off for a moment and then carefully felt for her concealed knives as she handed the servant it over.  _Wouldn't want him hurting himself on my knives . . . would be a shame after he's bein' so nice._

   The servant nodded and walked off into another room, while Kendra took the note out of her mouth and slipped it into her thankfully dry sleeve.  Given this time all by herself, she put her hands behind her back and examined her surroundings. 

   The walls of the entryway were paneled in dark wood while the floor was some sort of light colored stone that had rugs haphazardly strewn here and there.  There were several tables, some supporting vases of flowers, some holding statues.  The one nearest her was covered in a jumble of belongings; pocket knives, dolls, stones, string, wooden carvings, and more.  _Well, this is obviously a house that's lived in._

   The walls themselves interested her greatly.  The one to her right held an assortment of flags, banners, and weaponry.  _Tokens of successful raids, no doubt._  She looked to her left and found a galaxy of portraits.  It started with an older man and woman, moving onto couples – three men with a strong family resemblance and their spouses, and a man she easily recognized.  _Jack._  She examined the picture of Jack and the woman who was undoubtedly his wife.  _Well, the woman is certainly prettier than I.  Not a beauty like Janette . . . or most any noblewoman, but she's nothing like me.  At least in looks.  Looks to be near me size . . . taller and more . . . womanly shaped.  I always figured Sparrow to stay free roaming all his life, but I can understand settlin' down with a woman . . . especially one with such nice connections.  He does seem fond of her, though, giving her a nickname.  But then again . . . he gave **me** a nickname . . . and I was nothin' but trouble for him.  Either way . . . I think I could in the least tolerate lookin' after her until Sparrow gets back._  

   After spending so much time examining the woman she was here to protect, Kendra gave a cursory examination of each of the smaller portraits, each with a name underneath them, all of children.  There were sixteen.

   _So this is the home of **the** Captain Morgan? _she thought as she finished her examination of the room.  _Never thought I'd be standing here . . . never.  Although I must admit that it's not quite what I expected.  _With nothing left to do, Kendra leaned against a wall and started planning just what she was going to do next.

Before too long the servant returned and she was about to follow him upstairs, when a child came into the room.  Well, more like a blossoming young woman. 

   Unconsciously, Kendra felt a surge of jealousy.  _She's already taller than me and looks more like a woman than I'll ever be . . ._  But she put on a smile, stifling the pointless emotion, and doffing her hat, a bit of rain water spilling out with the action.  "Hello, miss."

   The girl who'd come down the stairs was Bella.  She looked Kendra over curiously, not sure what to make of the dripping boy dressed in oversized clothing and bearing a sword, pistol and likely a plethora of other weapons.  She knew exactly what could be hidden on a small body, mainly because she knew what she could hide on herself.  Like her aunt Winn, the girl was rarely caught without at least one dagger.  "Hello," she nodded.  "Who are you?"

   "Ken, miss," she flashed a grin and put her hat back on, nodding and starting to turn, before pausing momentarily.  "And what is your name, may I ask?"

   "Bella Morgan," she replied, doing her best not to start spewing forth questions about this miniature pirate's reason for being there.  She _knew_ that this cabin boy had to have _something_ to do with her aunt and uncle, and she wanted to know what.  And while she normally wasn't shy around girls _or_ boys her own age, she was strangely hesitant to question this stranger.

   "Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Morgan, but if ye'll excuse me, I have some business to be about."  Kendra had not failed to see the girl's overwhelming curiosity.  "We can talk further if ye'd like.  I doubt that I'll be leavin' too soon." 

   Bella nodded and then Kendra returned her attention to the servant who was waiting at the top of the first flight of stairs.  She hurried after him, then kept his slower pace as he continued further up. 

   "Sorry to keep you waiting," she softly added, keeping her gaze on the nearing second floor. 

   "That's perfectly alright.  I'm afraid that the Captain is under strict orders to rest."  It wasn't the man who answered, but a woman that Kendra recognized from one of the portraits downstairs.  The woman held out a hand for Kendra to shake.  "I'm Catherine Morgan, Cat to most.  I hear that Jack sent you?"

   "Yes, mum."

   "Please, just Cat.  We don't stand on ceremony much here at Swallows Rest, except for when addressing the Captain."  The woman started walking, clearly taking Kendra someplace, although she couldn't imagine where.

   "Which captain is that?  It seems as if your family boasts more than its fair share."  Kendra did her best to absorb her surroundings, but found them almost too large to comprehend.  _A fort's one thing . . . but this house.  Amazing . . ._

   "That's true, but in this family, only my husband's grandfather is addressed as 'the Captain.'  Ah, here we go."  Cat opened the door to a smallish but very clean and very comfortable room.  "I assume you will be staying with us for some time?"

   "I believe that's what Sparrow had in mind."

   "Alright then, this is your room.  Did you leave your belongings downstairs?"

   "No, I left them at an inn down by the docks.  I didn't want to impose –"

   "Nonsense.  We've more than enough room.  I'll send one of the boys for your belongings as soon as this rain lets up a bit."  Cat looked her small companion up and down.  "Is your business so urgent that you must see Captain Morgan immediately?  As much as I'd like to know what news of Jack and Winn you might have, I don't dare question you before the Captain gets the opportunity . . . and I prefer he rest while he can."

   Kendra shook her head, "Nay, but um…" as her stomach growled again she smiled.  "If I could have a bite to eat, it would be greatly appreciated."

   "Of course.  I've enough of my own children to have guessed that."  Cat smiled and led her back downstairs, where a knocking was heard on the door.  Not the front one, but one leading in from what she thought were the gardens.

   Kendra waited in the back doorway while Cat opened the door opened for Alex, who was immediately ushered in and his coat taken.  "Alex, it's good to see you.  I –"  Somewhere in the back of the house, someone started crying.  "Oh goodness."  She smiled apologetically.  "Richard and Sarah dropped the children off for a fortnight so they could have some time to themselves, and with my luck, Susan has moved into a stage where she's constantly irritable and short-tempered."

   "Ah, making up for Freddy."

   "Say that to her once she gets back, I'm sure she'll appreciate it."  Cat nodded to Alex and Kendra.  "If you'll both excuse me?"  She scurried off, leaving the two alone in a somewhat awkward silence.

   "Thanks for the ride," she nodded to Alex, who smiled in reply. 

   "It was my pleasure. Finish your business already?"

   She narrowed her eyes. "Not just yet."

   For a short time, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.  The same servant who'd let her in finally came over to Kendra and gestured towards another room.  This house was simply too convoluted for her to keep track of what was where.

   "The only Mrs. Morgan in residence tells me you can use some food.  It's this way to the kitchens and dining room.  Please follow me."

   Kendra nodded, "Thank you."  She noted that Alex was following her and glanced over her shoulder.  "Hungry yourself?  Or do you just find yourself with nothing better to do than follow me?"

   Something about the lad's mannerisms quite amused Alex.  He was sure the boy was hiding something, and he fully intended to find out what it was.  "I'm not one to turn down a meal."

   She sighed and continued on.  _I won't get a bit of rest in this place . . . I can tell already.  Not unless I hide myself in some unknown room in the dead of night and lock the door. _

   They finally reached the dining room and the servant had the two sit across from each other at one of the enormous table.  Well, it wasn't all that wide, but it was extraordinarily long.  "What would you like?" he asked.

   "Anything you can scrounge up, if you would.  I'm starving," Kendra grinned, then decided to add, "I eat like a growing lad, so don't hesitate to pile it on."

   He nodded, then looked to Alex.

   "Whatever you have lying around, Dom.  I wouldn't want to trouble you."

   With that, it was just down to Kendra and Alex again.  She slumped over on the table and rested her chin on her folded arms, her eyes drooping a bit.

   "Something the matter, Ken?"

_   There's no reason even to bother looking over.  Too tired to anyway._  "Haven't slept in a while is all.  Nor have I eaten.  Think once I deliver my initial message I'll sleep for a bit. Even if I have to do so in a corner of some room."  The thought of climbing those stairs and finding her way to her room was daunting.

   "What message is this?"

   Her tone began to get drowsy.  "Just taking care of," a yawn made her pause, "some business for Sparrow.  Gonna be glad to have this errand over and him back in my debt again."

_   How does he know Jack?  And why would a boy his age call him 'Sparrow'?  _"This Sparrow . . . you _do_ mean Jack Sparrow?"

   "Aye, one in the irritating same."  Her eyes were getting heavier and the table all the more cozy. 

   He simply nodded in reply, watching the nearly-asleep figure across from him carefully.  _Spitfire would never allow her husband to send out a small cabin boy all by himself.  Especially one as foolhardy – and underfed – as Ken.  But . . . the lad could be more resourceful than he seems.  Can't expect the impossible out of a tired, hungry, soaking wet lad.  I'll let him doze until the food comes.  And it is odd for a cabin boy not to call a captain by their title . . . even if they're not from the same ship.  The boy did say his ship is the _Dilettante. _ Maybe Ken just isn't fond of Freddy's husband.  Or Ken isn't a cabin boy at all.  Doubtful, but a possibility._

   Kendra felt the warm hands of sleep willing her consciousness to nothing . . . and barely had the will to resist.  She was just so tired . . .  _I'm in a strange place though!  I . . . I can't fall asleep like this.  Not only am I making a sorry name for myself, but I'm vulnerable when I'm asleep.  Captain Morgan may well not take kindly to my intrusion and kill me in my sleep or something.  _She doubted it with how welcoming everyone had been so far, but it was still possible.  _With how tired I am now, I'm not quite sure how heavily I'd slumber.  With my type of luck around Sparrow, I'd be out like a rock. _

   Alex had taken to examining the room and was glad to see a few servants come out with trays of steaming food.  _Time to wake up the boy._  He looked down at Kendra and couldn't help but smile.  Sleep had almost taken over, and a soft innocence had conquered the harsh and sarcastic expressions previous.  _I'm almost tempted to let the boy sleep.  But he did seem very hungry._

   "Ken."  There was no response.  "Ken," he said louder.  Still she didn't respond, so he reached out to touch her shoulder, but just before he reached it, the pirate jerked back and stumbled to her weary feet, drawing heavy breaths.  Alex had pulled his hand back and was glad to see that he had only startled her.

   "What's . . . what . . . ?"  Kendra's eyes were slightly out of focus and she found it difficult to concentrate.  Until the smell of food reached her.  Hot food. 

   "You'd almost fallen asleep.  I was trying to wake you up."

   "Oh . . ." she gave a weak smile.  "Sorry, just a bit jumpy I suppose."  Quickly pulling her seat back to its previous position, she plopped down and eagerly waited for the food. 

   As soon as the trays were set down, and the lids taken off, Kendra slid one that was particularly full over to her, and began to dig in, not bothering with utensils.  She ate with a limited amount of grace, keeping her mess to a minimum.  Her stomach was demanding food so violently that she found it difficult to even maintain that kind of propriety.

   Alex watched her with guarded eyes.  _Seems like the boy is practically starving.  Though in many occasions boys go through a period of time where they eat like no tomorrow.  Probably something like that.  Neither Captain Sparrow nor Winn would allow one of their crew to starve. _ It was a good explanation, but Alex still got the feeling there was more to this boy than met the eye.

Pain.  Pain, and heat, and disorientation.  His entire body _ached, his back felt as if he'd been staked under the Caribbean sun for days, and his mind felt as if he'd overindulged on rum.  Which he was relatively certain he hadn't._

   Something was touching his back, and an agonized moan was coming from somewhere.  It almost sounded like the _Pearl when she was being buffeted by a particularly nasty storm.  But he wasn't on his ship.  Why wasn't he on his ship?_

   _The battle.  Gandolfi – he captured me and lured Winnie out.  And she was pregnant, and he poisoned her, and she was in so much pain.  Again he heard the moan.  "Winnie?  What's –"  He gasped as pain flared, and realized he'd been the one moaning.  Once he realized that, he remembered what had happened.  The sentencing.  Winn being called up to give testimony.  He'd ridiculed Hallington and the magistrate.  She'd collapsed and he'd held her hand, praying that she wasn't having a miscarriage.  Hallington had ordered that he be whipped._

   The sun had been hot, but nowhere near as hot as the paths of fire that had traced their way down his back.  Jack didn't remember the punishment coming to an end, he didn't remember the trip to wherever it was that he was now.  He grimaced as the pain flashed across his back again.  It felt like someone was digging into his back.  He tried to struggle against the pain, but a hand on the back of his neck prevented any real movement.

   "Relax, Sparrow.  There's still shreds of cloth in some of the wounds.  Unless you want to die of an infection, I suggest you let the physician do his work.  You've got enough on your hands with just the lashing and a fever."

   Jack knew that voice.  "Commodore –"

   "Please, keep your mouth shut this once."

   Jack grinned, then slipped back into unconsciousness.  He had no idea what was going on, he was completely defenseless, and under the Commodore's care.  Seemed like a good enough time to escape for a bit.

There was a knock on the door – Winn ignored it.  The sun was just coming up, turning the ocean to blood.  So much blood.  It seemed as if all her recent memories were covered in it.  _Jack.  She needed her husband.  But she'd killed him._

   "Winn?"  Elizabeth didn't receive an answer, but she went into the room anyway, Grace a step behind her.  Perhaps her friend was actually getting some sleep.  She hoped Winn was asleep, because then she could delay giving her the bad news.

   No such luck.  When she entered the room, she found Winn sitting on the floor by the window, Pige by her side.  There was paper all over the floor, the candles had been burned down to stubs, and the blankets had been pulled from the bed.  "Winn?"

   Winn was petting her dog absently.  Her eyes were fixed beyond the horizon, watching something that no one else could see.  "I wake up in the morning, and I open my eyes to an empty bed.  And every single morning, I wonder why Jack got up so early, and then I wonder why my bed feels as if it's planted so solidly on something, and then I remember that he's . . . he's locked in a cell waiting to die.  But I can't believe that, because that would mean that I gave up on him.  That I abandoned him, not it being the other way around.  So every morning I trick myself into believing that Jack has gone up onto the deck early and left me to sleep in peace.  But this morning I couldn't do that.  I never went to sleep.  All I could think about is the pain I've caused.  I should never have let Jack marry me.  I should have run away – I could have done it.  I should have stayed in England.  But I stayed with him because I loved him and that's what killed him."

   Grace and Elizabeth looked at each other.  "Elizabeth, go downstairs and get Marcus and Ry."  Elizabeth nodded, and left the room after one worried glance at Winn.

   Grace waited until she could no longer hear Elizabeth, then slowly approached Winn.  "We need to get you back into bed, Freddy.  You're going to catch a chill sitting here on the floor."

   Winn didn't look away from the ocean.  "It doesn't matter – I'll be cold anyway.  I'm always cold."  The water was slowly losing its red hue, taking on the turquoise color that people were accustomed to seeing.  Life returning to normal after bloodshed.  Did life return to normal after one had been soaked in blood?  _That what Jack hates the most about being on land . . . not being able to look out in any direction and see nothing but water.  He must hate that cell they have him in._

   "Freddy, I would feel better if you'd get back into bed."

   Winn sighed.  No use everyone feeling miserable.  "Alright."  Slowly she got to her feet, using Grace as a support to help her up.  Then she slowly hobbled back over to the bed, still leaning on her sister-in-law.  She was climbing into bed as the rest of her family came into the room.

   Winn paused and looked at them, setting aside her distraction for the moment.  It was never a good thing when relatives descended en mass.  She got the feeling that something was about to happen . . . something they knew she wasn't going to like.  "Grace?  What's going on?"  Grace merely looked to her husband, so Winn switched her gaze to Marcus.  "Marcus, what's wrong?"  She tried to struggle out of the bed, but Grace held her back.  _Not Jack.  Not Jack.  Please . . . _

   Marcus came over and took his sister's hand.  She was shaking her head, denying what he had to say before he could even say it.  "Freddy, I just got from the fort –"

   She pulled her hand free.  "No.  I don't want to hear it.  You're wrong.  Jack's strong, he'll make it.  He'll pull through.  I don't care what anyone else has to say – he promised he wouldn't leave me."

   "Freddy."  Marcus looked into his sister's eyes, watched as she desperately tried to build walls against what he was going to say.  "I'm sorry."  She shook her head as her hand tightened on his enough to hurt.  "Jack's gone.  He d–"

   "NO!"  She pulled away, pushing Grace's hands off her shoulders.  "He's not dead, he's not."  She climbed out of bed, Pige instantly at her side.  Winn laid a hand on the dog's shoulder without realizing what she was doing.  "He just managed to get away.  Jack's smart . . . he could do that."

   Marcus and Ry looked at the women and motioned for them to leave.  This was a family crisis – something that needed to be dealt with between brothers and sister.  At the rate things were going, Winn was going to give into her tempter fully at any moment, and that wasn't something that should be inflicted on outsiders.  There would time for Grace and Elizabeth to comfort Winn later – right now the two brothers needed to keep her from hurting herself or anyone else.  She might very well try to run off after Hallington.

   "Winn – you _know_ better than that.  You know there was no way that he was in any condition to escape."  

   Winn shook her head.  "But I need him."  She backed away as her brothers tried to come closer to her.  Her anger blossomed – how could they give up so easily?  There had to be another explanation.  She'd _know_ if Jack was dead.  Somehow she'd know.  "Stay away from me.  Pige – guard."  The dog looked at her as if confused, but did as she was told.  Both Ry and Marcus stopped as the dog started growling as she placed herself firmly between them and Winn.

   "Winifred.  You've moved past anger and now you're overreacting."

   "You're under-reacting!  How can you just so easily accept that Jack is dead?  Why is that the only explanation?  Why can't someone have helped him escape?  Why can't Hallington have hidden him away somewhere until he can hang him?  Why is death the only acceptable reason for him being missing?"

   "Winn – Norrington was the one who found his body."

   Winn felt a sheet of ice form around her body.  Her words from last night came back to her.  _"Jack's a good man . . . but so are you."_  _Norrington wouldn't lie about something like that.  He has no reason to.  _"When?"

   "Last night, after he left here."

   _"We killed him, you and I, or we will kill him."_

   "Winn . . ."

   "No.  Don't say anything."  _Gandolfi . . . Hallington . . . this is their fault.  _She rested her hands on her expanding belly, feeling her child kicking under her hands.  "I want to see Norrington.  Now."

   Marcus looked at Ry, not quite believing that things were turning out to be this easy.  "Alright . . . we'll send a note to him –"

   Why couldn't they see what she wanted?  Why must they treat her as a vulnerable widow?  If she had been the wife of a pirate yesterday, then today she was a pirate wench looking for revenge.  "No.  No notes, no waiting, no more apologies.  I want to talk to Norrington face to face.  I want to look into his eyes when tells me that Jack . . . that my husband is dead.  I want to know when and how he plans to go after Gandolfi.  I want to see the man pay for what he's done."  She went over to her wardrobe and pulled out a dress.

   "Winn . . . you're in no condition to be traipsing all over Port Royal."  Ry held back the urge to squirm under the glare that Winn shot at him.  He ruefully remembered all the times his men had teased him about giving way to his baby sister, but none of them had ever seen Winn take on an opponent twice her size and come out undaunted.  "Do you remember what happened yesterday?"  Bad choice of words; Winn picked up a hair brush from the table next to her wardrobe and threw it with deadly accuracy at his head.  For a woman still weak from grief and a harrowing ordeal, she still had enough strength to force Ry to duck the hairbrush.

   When he looked back to his sister, he saw that her eyes had turned to ice.  "Yes.  I noticed what happened yesterday.  In a moment of weakness I abandoned my husband to die alone."

   "But the baby –"

   "The baby is Jack's, the only part of him that I have left.  I will do nothing to endanger it."  Winn stopped her activities and looked at her brothers.  "I _need_ to do this.  I need to do this just to assure myself that I'm still alive . . . that I didn't die with Jack.  At the moment, anger is all I can feel, so I'm hanging on to it.  Don't take that from me, let me do this."  The brothers looked at each other.  If Winn were this determined, it would take more energy than they wanted to expend to keep her in the house.  Marcus shrugged; Ry nodded.  "Thank you."

Winn was having a hard time containing her impatience.  Norrington hadn't been at the fort, and Hallington had come out to offer his apologies from the day before.  She'd had to keep her eyes locked on her lap as he'd patronizingly droned on and on.  Only her lack of a weapon had kept her from killing the man there and then; only the fact that she was pregnant kept her from bodily attacking the man.  He was soft, he wouldn't have stood a chance . . . but she couldn't risk hurting Jack's child.

   "Freddy.  You're bleeding."  She was?  Ry's concerned voice broke through the haze taking over her mind.  

   Winn looked down at her hand – she'd been holding the trinket Jack had sent her so tightly that the edges of the round piece of metal had pierced her skin.  She watched as the blood welled up out of her palm.  _Thirty-five lashes._  "I'm going to kill him, Ry.  Hallington.  Jack didn't deserve that punishment and we all know it."  Her brother didn't answer her.  Instead Ry folded her skirt back and tore a bit of cloth off one of her petticoats.  He then wrapped the fabric around her hand, cutting off the flow of blood.  "I'm serious, Ry."

   "I know you are."

   The door of the carriage opened and Marcus climbed in.  "Norrington wasn't there.  He's at home, and he's asked not to be disturbed unless it's an emergency."

   "Marcus, if you're asking me whether or not I want to go back home, the answer is no.  I need to talk to Norrington.  I need to make sure that someone is going to make Gandolfi pay for what he's done."

   Marcus nodded and tapped on the roof of the carriage.

   It took another five minutes to travel across the town to Norrington's home.  Once they were there, Winn refrained from jumping out of the carriage as soon as it came to a stop, instead waiting for her brothers to help her down.  Then she walked up to the front door of the house, her brothers flanking her, and rapped on it.  No one replied.  Winn waited another few minutes before knocking again . . . still nothing.  "This is ridiculous."  She tried the latch – the door was unlocked.

   "Winn!" Marcus hissed as Winn walked into the Commodore's house uninvited.  She ignored him, and Marcus looked to his brother for support.  

   Ry simply shrugged.  "She's your sister too."

   "Don't you find it odd that she's a foot shorter than either of us, but neither of us is willing to reach out and stop her?"

   "No.  She's meaner than either of us."

   Marcus was going to reply when a cry from the inside of the house interrupted him.  The brothers looked at each other, then followed their sister into Norrington's home.

Winn was frozen in shock on the threshold of Norrington's sitting room.  There was the Commodore in a chair – looking extremely disheveled – and there was her husband on a divan.  _What's going on?  I don't understand._

   "Mistress Sparrow."  Winn looked at the Commodore in shock.

   "I don't understand."  She heard her brothers come up behind her.

   "Captain Morgan."  Both men nodded.  "Please, Mistress Sparrow, come in and have a seat."  

   Winn looked at the man, then moved into the room, quickly walking over to where her husband lay.  She knelt on the floor next to him, brushing some hair out of his face and stroking his forehead.  It was hot.  There was a basin of water and a cloth nearby – she wet the cloth, and rubbed it over his face.  She looked at his back, and winced at the number of bandages covering him.  Blood was soaking in through in one or two places.  _Jack._

   The men stood at the doorway still, watching Winn as she started to care for her husband.  When tears started to roll down her face, they turned away.  "Captain Marcus, we're going to have a talk later about entering a man's house uninvited and unannounced."

   "It's not my fault, sir.  It was Freddy's idea."

   "Then we shall have a talk about the importance of sharing significant information with your superiors."  Marcus cringed.

   Winn disrupted their talk.  "Commodore?  How long has he been unconscious?"

   "Since shortly after dawn, madam."  Norrington walked back into the sitting room, his bearing the same as it would have been had he been in full dress uniform.  "He's been fighting he fever since last night."

   "And . . . and his back?"

   "I had a very discreet physician here most of the night cleaning the wounds."  Winn nodded, knowing he meant that the man had been picking sheds of fabric out of her husband's back.  "He asked for you."

   It was too much.  Winn wiped tears from her face as she played with Jack's hair.  "I'm so sorry, Jack.  So sorry I got you into this."

   "Ah . . . it's only to be expected, love."  Winn's eyes opened and stared straight into the open eyes of her husband.  "You're a woman, and women are trouble."

   His voice was so _rough_.  She could tell that at some point the day before, he'd been crying out in pain.  "If you want to talk about trouble, Jack Sparrow, then let's talk about you.  Leaving me to worry about you the way I did."  Winn's voice, despite her brave words, was trembling.  Jack sighed, and reached blindly for her hand.  "Don't cry, Winnie."

   "I'm not crying, you despicable man, I'm angry.  I thought you were _dead._"  Marcus and Ry pulled Norrington from the room.  "If I wasn't afraid of killing you myself, I'd . . . I'd . . . I'd _kill_ you."

   "Not your best argument, love."  Jack managed to get a hold of Winn's hand, and he used it to pull her down to him, brushing a kiss over her cheek.

   She rested her head against the side of the sofa, making Jack bend his head down a little to keep eye contact.  "You're more trouble than you're worth, Sparrow."

   "That's why you're here, right Winnie?"

   She sighed and squeezed his hand.  "Maybe I _like_ trouble."  She looked into his eyes again, and saw how tired he was.  She smiled sweetly.  "You should get some sleep."

   Jack knew she was right.  "Don't leave."

   "I'm not going anywhere.  You're going to have me on your tail until I'm too fat to walk anymore."

   Jack grinned, then went back to sleep, his wife sitting contentedly at his side.

********************************************************

**Author's Thanks: well, thank you so much to you all.  I did get to individual replies, but they're going to be short since there's so many.**

**jackfan2**** – yay!  You're back!  I'm sorry to hear that life is ganging up on you too, but I really do appreciate anything you take the time to write – so insightful you are.**

**Erica Dawn – **thank you for catching that mistake, and I'm really glad that you didn't wake anyone up.  ; )

**Siremaik**** – well . . . yes and no.  I need to keep the happy couple apart for just a bit longer.**

**VagrantCandy**** – was this quick enough for you?**

**bobo3**** – well, still haven't decided how Hallington is going to get it in the end, but tell Kendra to be on standby.**

**jigglykat – ok, it's not nice to let the author know you're on to her.  ; )  We all know I'd never really kill Jack.**

**BeBe**** – nope, had a minor change of plan – decided I couldn't pull off a rigged hanging.  Which is how we got this . . . liked the change a bit more anyway.  I couldn't stand more waiting.**

**Dawnie****-7 – I have many twists up my sleeves, and I've a lot of sleeve, so think about that for a moment.  : )**

**Beak – **I liked that chapter a lot too – it was really fun to write and imagine all the abuse I was going to reap for it.  ; )  I _enjoy upsetting my readers.  It's fun.  BTW – I did notice that you're a new reviewer, and so therefore you can rock Sam, the raccoon that sits on top of my computer monitor._

**Lila Elensar – **you're right . . . he can't.  I'd never do that to him or to all of you.  

**lilitaliandragon** – **ok, I'm serious about people needing to stop reading my mind.  *sigh* I try to psych you all out, and then there's people like you who've been reading long enough to expect that I'm not actually going in the direction I'm implying that I'm going to go in.  **

**Circe-Asteria – **glad to hear from you, wish more people would believe me when I tend to say people are dead, but very glad to hear from you.  As a new reviewer, I think you can rock . . . the 'Get Fuzzy' comic on my desk.

**Berne**** – wow.  I don't have the patience to read this for two hours.  ; )  I'm really glad you took the time to review – reviews are really encouraging and they help motivate me to write (mainly because I feel guilty for not updating faster).  New reviewer!  You can rock the baseball cap I got in Hoopa, Calif.**

**mooranda** – **I'm glad to hear that this story has picked up enough to keep you interested, and I'm really glad to hear from you again.  Really, I notice all my reviewers, and I notice if they don't review, and I wonder if I've made them hate me (or my story), but now I know that you don't hate me and that you're reading, and I am happy.**

**CaptainJackSparrowsGirl**** – Jack's not dead, I couldn't do that.  : )**

**Eledhwen**** – am I really so transparent that you all can see where I'm going with something?  Yes, Norrington is a good guy and I like him.**

**BlueTrinity**** – I'm sorry.  I really don't try to make people cry.  (Well, I do try to upset them . . .)  I know, I'm awful.**

**NightSkyFlight**** – didn't you review the last chapter?  *is puzzled*  I'm glad that you took the time to review though, and I understand if you often just don't have the time to do so.  You can rock my 'Little Thing Two' doll that I got in a box of Rice Crispies.**

**TaraRose**** – how did you all know that Norrington helped Jack?  I don't understand.  *wails***

**KamikazeCreamPuff**** – I'm glad to hear you wouldn't hesitate to tell me if I started slacking off or something.  It's good to know that I have people who will keep me on the straight and narrow.**

**Belle – **I've started to like him too.  The deleted scenes really helped that along.  And speaking of deleted scenes, you can rock the deleted scenes on my copy of PotC.

**WakingDream**** – I think you're talking to my double a lot.  You forgot the 'h,' luv.  : )  Glad you were excited to see the next chapter though.**

**pendragginik** – **wow.  Thanks for the complements.  It's nice to know that I've written well-rounded characters.  Have you reviewed before?  I seem to remember your name, but perhaps I've just seen it elsewhere.  You can rock my LotR soundtrack.**

**SuzzieQue**** – thanks for the rum.  ; )**

**KawaiiRyu**** – ugh.  Sorry about all the finals and such – I didn't know people were still doing that – but I'm indeed very happy that you came and read my fic first thing.  : )  Hallington will eventually be taken down a few notches.  I'm really relived that I managed to write Norrington well.**

**GoldenRose3**** – sorry 'now' turned out to be several days.  ; )  Wow, I made you gasp?  That's pretty cool.**

**pirate-miss**** – yes, I have arms up my sleeves.  ; P  I'm not trying to write a tear-jerker . . . something to mess with your head, yes.  But tears?  I don't like to cry.**

**RadioActiveSocks**** – are you kidding?  I'm one of those people who notices every single one of my reviewers.  I really do draw a lot of my encouragement and ideas of what facets of my characters need to be expounded on from people who give feedback – like your comment that Winn needed to toughen up some.  I lost her a bit in the pregnancy, but I'll do what I can.  I hope this chapter was a good start.  BTW – as a new reviewer, you can rock the pirate socks that I'm wearing.  (They have a neat charm on them.  : P)**

**georgie**** b – since you're the second person to point out that Winn might be a little 'limp' I really am doing my best to give her back some of her spirit.  She got lost in the pregnancy and the near miscarriage, and Jack being caught . . . . *sigh*  Was she better this chapter?  I hope so.  I was really glad to hear from you, and as a new reviewer, you can rock my pirate wristband.**

***Whew*  Finally done.  You guys gave me way more reviews than I feel I deserve . . . but I'll take them,  ; )  Gotta go.  Tell me what you think of this chapter.**


	30. Rift

**Author's Note: these chapters get written ever so much fast when I only have to write half of them.  ^_^  Yes, that's right, Sarah has a writing partner for some of this.**

**I'm much ashamed that I didn't mention this last chapter, but Kendra is not mine.  That's right.  I know some of you were asking about her, and the honest truth is that I didn't write her.  A delightfully generous bobo3 did.  So, if you really want to know more about Kendra, please go read 'Four-Sided Eyes' by bobo3.  I guarantee you won't regret that you did.  ; )**

************************************************************* **

As Winn sat with her husband, the Commodore and her brothers were having their own discussion.

   "How did you get Jack out of the fort?"

   Norrington sighed.  "It was easy enough to convince everyone that Sparrow was dead.  It was even easier to find two out of work dockhands to bring him here in a cart.  I already had a physician waiting to see him, and he paid the men enough money so that they could go get blindingly drunk.  Even if the Lord Chancellor does manage to track those men down, they won't remember a thing about what they did last night."

   Ry nodded, pleased to find that Norrington knew how to cover his tracks.  "So, what do you plan on doing now?  I know for a fact that Jack is a miserable patient once he's well enough not to sleep through the day."

   The Commodore rose from the table they were sitting at and started pacing.  "The law is clear when it says that I should surrender Sparrow to the justice that the court has deemed appropriate for his crimes against the crown . . . however, I have already broken the law by helping Sparrow escape from prison, by finding a man to tend him, and by telling my superior that the pirate is dead when he is still breathing.  And it would be . . . imprudent for me to incriminate myself now."

   "Winn will want to stay with him," Marcus spoke up.  "You'll have a fight of it to make her stay away now."

   Norrington's eyebrows rose, but he didn't dispute the statement.  He remembered something of the girl who had come to the Caribbean all those years ago – she'd been formidable even then.  And although time – and perhaps something more – seemed to have worn away some of the sharp edges she'd carried, Winifred Morgan was still a woman he didn't necessarily want to cross.  Unfortunately, he didn't have much choice in the matter.  "That's something we're going to need to talk about."

Winn didn't know how long tears had been leaking from her eyes, but a large patch of the cushion she was leaning her head against was wet.  She was too tired to simply cry and get things over with, but the sudden relief of the tension that had been riding her for weeks demanded some sort of outlet, and tears were the easiest at the moment.  So she sat at the floor at her husband's side and let the tears come as Jack slept and she held his hand.

   For a moment she wondered how low she'd been brought – married, pregnant, and weeping almost at her husband's feet.  The woman she'd been years ago would never had stood for this.  But then again, the woman she'd been years ago had simply watched the world as it lived around her.  Existence wasn't as painful as living, but it wasn't as rewarding either.

   Taking a deep, shuddery breath, Winn wiped her eyes and looked into her husband's sleeping face.  His formerly sleeping face.  "Did I wake you?"

   "No, love."  Jack released Winn's hand to brush a wet trail from her face.  She turned her head to kiss his palm, closing her eyes against another rise of tears.  Jack was somewhat alarmed – Winn wasn't a weepy woman.  But then again, she was pregnant.  "Winnie, it's over.  We're both going to be alright.  The _three_ of us are going to be alright."

   "I know," she whispered.  "I just missed you."

   Jack looked around to make sure they were still unobserved.  They were alone.  "I missed you to, love."

   She gave him a watery grin.  "I noticed you waited until there was no one around to say that."

   "Sorry, lass, but it wouldn't really go with the image."

   "Which image?  The recovering pirate who is soon to be a father?"

   Jack groaned.  "Winnie, you're going to be the death of me."  He knew that had been the wrong thing to say.  "No.  Don't go thinking like that.  Just put the last few weeks out of your mind entirely."  She gave him an incredulous look, but he ignored it.  "How's junior?"

   "Junior?"

   Jack gave the best imitation of a shrug that he could.  "It's not like we've chosen names, Winnie."

   "What if it's a girl?  You can't call a girl 'junior'."  The considering look on her husband's face almost scared her.  "Jack . . ."

   "What?"  She glared at him as she squirmed on the floor.  "What's wrong?"

   She shook her head.  "Let's just say this isn't the most comfortable position for a pregnant woman, even one that's still as small as I am."

   "You're still small?"  He hid a grin as Winn's eyes narrowed.

   "Jack Sparrow, I _know_ you've seen my sisters when they've been rounder with child than I am, so don't even try to irritate me."

   "But it's so easy."

   "You're also not in a position to make up with me, so I'd keep your smart remarks to yourself if I were you.  What are you doing?"  Winn felt a bit of alarm as Jack tried to lever himself up from the couch.  "Jack, stop it.  You're not nearly strong enough to be sitting up."

   "Nonsense."

   "No, not nonsense.  Jack, less than twenty-four hours ago you received a rather thorough thrashing.  You've been running a low grade fever, and you've lost quite a bit of blood –"

   "I notice that didn't keep you in bed."

   "I've been lying flat on my back for a week.  Besides, I had the death of my husband to avenge."  Winn laid a hand on her husband's arm.  "Please lie back down?"  He shook his head.  "Why not?"

   "I want you to sit by me."

   "Then let me get a chair."

   "What's going on here?"  Jack and Winn both looked towards the doorway.  Norrington and Winn's brothers all stood there – Norrington with a disbelieving but dry look on his face, Ry and Marcus trying to hide their amusement.  "I assure you, Sparrow, that I did not expend so much effort last night trying to find a discreet physician, only to have to call him back today."

   "Jack, please listen.  The Commodore really has put himself on the line to help us."

   Jack glanced at Winn, then looked steadily at Norrington.  Finally he sighed and lowered himself back down on the couch.

   "Freddy, I think you're finally having some luck turning Jack into something that resembles a rational person."

   Winn glared at Ry.  "I'll make sure to mention my techniques to Cat since she's obviously failed to do the same."  Marcus elbowed his brother.  Winn shook her head and turned her attention to Norrington.  "Commodore, I really must thank you for everything you've done.  If I can ever repay the debt, please, let me know."  Jack spluttered, but she only placed a calming hand on this arm as she held the other man's gaze.

   Norrington examined her to make sure she was being sincere.  "I'm glad you feel that way, because I have something I need to ask you to do.  It will be difficult, but it would also be best for all involved."

   "What is it?"

   "I need you to leave."

   Winn looked at Jack, then back at the Commodore.  She supposed they had been here for a bit.  "Will you send me updates on how he fares?"  Norrington's steady gaze didn't waver, but Winn saw her brother's exchange a wary glance.  _No._  "No.  Please tell me that was what you meant."

   "I'm afraid not, Mistress Sparrow."

   "No, I'm not going to leave Jack.  Not yet."  _Things could still suddenly take a sudden turn for the worst.  Infection could set in – more men die of that than of the wounds themselves.  A fever could take him faster than anything else._

   "I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

   _We'll see about that._  Winn had seen the dagger she'd given Jack on a nearby table.  Cumbersomely she rose to her feet, then reached for it.  Once it was in her hand, she turned back to the men.  "That is the one thing I can't do, Commodore.  Don't make me be stubborn."

   "Winnie," Jack was tugging on her skirt.  "Winn, you're in no condition to fight, love.  Sit down before you make a fool of yourself."

   Why couldn't they see?  Why couldn't they see that expectant mothers needed their husbands at their sides?  Why couldn't they see that being apart from Jack for half her pregnancy had taken its toll?  She was _not_ overreacting, not as long as she refrained from doing most of what her temper was suggesting.  _Men.  I hate them all._  With an angry cry, Winn threw the dagger towards the small group in the doorway – the blade embedded itself in the wall.

   She stood trembling as Norrington, Marcus, and Ry all observed the still quivering hilt of the knife.  As one they turned back to her – her brothers with resignation, Norrington with a fair amount of surprise.  Winn ignored their reactions.  "Why are you asking me to leave Port Royal, Commodore?"

   "Despite a lack of evidence and a lack of support, Hallington is itching to charge you with something.  Anything.  We need to get you off the island before he decides what he'd like to accuse you of."

   _Dear Lord,_ Winn prayed in exasperation.  "I swear that I will see that man pay for all this."

   "This morning you were laying claim to his head."

   "I've become a lot less bloodthirsty now that I've discovered that my husband is alive.  But Hallington _will_ pay for this.  I have enough connections and influence to ensure that his entire trip home is plagued by pirates."

   Norrington shook his head.  "This isn't the sort of thing you should be saying in front of me.  I agree with you wholeheartedly, but I still shouldn't be hearing it."

   "Hearing what?  The overly emotional rantings of a pregnant woman?"  Winn shook her head.  "If people keep insisting on pushing me into a role, I'll gladly play it."  Winn carefully sat back down on the floor, again taking Jack's hand in hers.  She looked at him.  "I don't want to leave you here."

   "Freddy, we all know that Jack's in no condition to travel."

   "Then let me hide somewhere until his is."

   "Winnie."  Winn shook her head, denying everything, everything that everyone was saying.  "Winnie, you need to go."

   "I need to be with you."

   Jack smiled.  "That would be the thirty-eighth time I've heard that argument."  He brushed some hair out of her face.  "You need to do what's best for the babe, and at the moment, that would be going home."

   "My _home_ is with you."

   "You know what I meant, Winnie.  I think it's time for a visit with the Captain."

   They were all right . . . but she _didn't_ _want_ _to_ _go_.  "If it's any consolation, Ryan has agreed to take you . . . home, and Marcus has agreed to stay here and leave with your husband in a week or so.  And you are free to stay here until your ship leaves this evening."

   Winn sighed in defeat.  There was no way they were going to truly listen to her, and she couldn't deny that they had a point.  "And Gandolfi?  You promised me that something would be done about him."

   All the men in the room exchanged looks.  Marcus shrugged and Jack nodded at Marcus.  "He'll be taken care of."

   "Fine.  Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd all leave us alone."

"What's all this commotion about?" Kendra growled under her breath, coming out of her room and leaning on the railing of stairwell.

   Below her it seemed that a handful of people had arrived.  Three women, some children, and a man.  Kendra narrowed her eyes and watched the proceedings.  _Wonder what all this about.  It wouldn't be Sparrow's wife would it?  The way he spoke of her made it seem as if she'd behave differently than some feckless damsel, but if I'm not mistaken . . ._  She focused her eyes on the dark haired woman far below.  _Looks like it could be Winn.  Undoubtedly is.  Don't know who else would be flocked about like that.  Should get a closer look at her.  I will be her guardian – in a sense – for a bit.  It'd be best if I could recognize my charge from a distance as well as close up. _

   Kendra silently walked down the stairs and watched the events from the shadows.  No matter how welcoming the Morgans had been, she couldn't help but feel like an outsider.  Not that this was a new feeling.  This was not her regular territory, not to mention that she was on land.  She'd been amazed that she'd slept so well the previous night; sleeping on land had always been an issue for the small pirate captain.  Living the majority of one's life aboard a ship _did_ have a few drawbacks. 

   Winn was irritable, getting over her sea-sickness, and overall not a very pleasant person to associate with at the moment.  Kendra absently listened to the woman mutter angrily about what she planned to do to Jack, how she wanted to wring a "Hallington's" neck, and various other unpleasant things.  Kendra ignored these ramblings and focused the majority of her attention on closely examining Winn and imprinting the image in her mind.  If an emergency arose, she'd need to be able to spot her charge in a moment's notice. 

_   What's got her in such a mood?  From the sound of things, Sparrow's alive and free of the Brits.  Isn't that good news?  Unless . . ._  Another outraged complaint from Winn broke Kendra's thoughts and her expression soured.  **_This_**_ is the only granddaughter of the Captain?  You'd think she'd have more of a spine.  Honestly . . . being through an ordeal like that, and coming out with so few scrapes . . . _Kendra sighed and leaned against the wall, watching the party head up the stairs.

_   Unnoticed as usual.  Just as well.  _Kendra followed the group upstairs, keeping her distance, but examining Winn's entourage.  _A more upperclass woman, a man undoubtedly close to her, another of the wives in the portraits, and a sparkling of children.  Quite the crowd to come here.  _The mass reached a wing of bedrooms; the children broke off into their own rooms, the woman and man that Kendra didn't recognize said good-night to Winn then entered another room, taking two children with them.  Winn was escorted to one of the bedrooms farther down the hall by the remaining woman – _The navy captain's wife perhaps?  She was with Winn at the docks.  _Kendra took note of her charge's room, counting the doorways to make sure she could find it again.  She then headed downstairs, going out one of the side doors to the garden. 

   Standing in the gardens now, Kendra counted the windows and smiled as she spotted the one lit window.  _Good.  Now I can reach her room from outside as well.  Really Sparrow . . . the things you're going to owe me if an emergency rises . . . even if one **doesn't** come up you'll still owe me greatly._  Examining the garden cursorily she sighed. "Time for bed I suppose . . ."  Heading inside once more, Kendra quietly walked the corridors and stairs, reaching her room and plopping down on her bed, pulling off her boots and taking her hair out, running her fingers through it. 

_   Tomorrow I suppose.  Tomorrow I'll finally meet this elusive wife of Sparrow's.  Wonder if she'll see the truth of me.  Doubtful, if she can do little else but complain about the ills in her life.  It's not like there haven't been any other troubles for the other occupants of this house.  _Sighing, Kendra laid down and put her hands behind her head, staring up at the ceiling.  _Not fair at all how these people get some illustrious lineage, and I get nothing more than a tale about being found at sea.  Mermaid indeed . . ._ Closing her eyes, she tried to go to sleep, the memory of her talk today with the idolized pirate captain drifting into her mind once more.

*   *   *   *   *

Kendra was amazed she'd made it this far.  Her nerves were shot and she didn't know how she had kept herself so calm in appearance.  Nor kept a shred of her wits.  Here she was, standing before _the_ Henry Morgan . . . a man she'd heard stories about for as long as she could remember. 

   "And that is all you know of my granddaughter and Captain Sparrow?"  Morgan was furious to hear of the harm that had come to his grandchild and unborn great-grandchild, but the news that she was with family and was well enough to travel heartened him.  He'd have words for Sparrow once the man got back, but that could be decided later.  Right now he had an awed cabin boy on his hands and he wished to make the best of it.

   Kendra nodded curtly, unaware of the man's thoughts.  "A-aye sir.  My apologies for not knowing any more.  Sparrow gave me a post through Captain Marcus and that is about all I have to go off of."

   Henry Morgan, now ninety-seven, nodded and coughed for a moment.  He looked out the window and sighed.  "And what is your standing with Captain Sparrow?"

   "Well . . ." Kendra hesitated.  Lying was not something she wanted to do to the Captain, but she also did not want to give away the truth so quickly . . . secrets had been a constant in her life – it was what she survived by.  "We met a few years back.  I guess you could call us acquaintances.  Or perhaps old friends.  Initially, I sought out Sparrow so I could incur a debt from him."

   "A debt?"

   "Aye, sir. I…I prefer to have the upper hand with Sparrow.  The last time I saw him . . ." her voice faltered and she looked down momentarily.  "I'd like to repay the favor as well as earn one in return."  She looked up to see a rather devious grin on the old man's face.  "Sir?"

   "Glad to see you're a proper pirate, son.  With a man like Sparrow, it's _always_ best to have the upper hand."  Kendra nodded, somewhat speechless.

   "Grandfather, it's time for you to rest."  Cat approached the bed from the back of the room where she'd been listening.  

   "You're getting to be as bad as Winnie," the old man muttered.

   "Well, if Winn is indeed going to be back within the week, then you undoubtedly want to be well enough to spar with her, and if you don't rest, you'll be too tired to do so."  Cat ignored the old man's grumblings.  "Ken, thank you for sharing your news, but if you'll please excuse us?"  Kendra nodded and left, hoping the old man would be alright.

*   *   *   *   *

Winn laid in her bed, alone and still miserable from the voyage here.  Actually, she couldn't tell what was caused by the nausea she'd been feeling constantly for the past few days and what was caused by the sense of foreboding that was hanging over her head.  Sighing, she tried to find a more comfortable position to rest in . . . minor discomfort was the best she could hope for these days.  _If Jack were here, he could give me a massage, but he's not here._  And he wasn't going to be here anytime soon.  The conversation she'd had with him right before leaving Port Royal still echoed in her mind.

*   *   *   *   *

   They'd spent the hours until dusk dozing on the Commodore's bed.  They'd both protested, but Norrington had been adamant.  They both needed rest and neither wanted to be separated from the other.  So they'd given in, Winn more than happy to spend the time lying in Jack's arms as he rested his hands over her belly and felt their child move around.  It'd been so idyllic, so tranquil, that Winn had been able to forget what had taken place to get them here and what would be happening in a few hours.

   But good things do come to an end.

   Ry had come in to let her know that it was time to say good-bye.  She hadn't liked it, but she'd risen and put her shoes on.  Once she was done, she had turned back to Jack and said, "You'll meet me at Swallows Rest as soon Norrington lets you leave, right?"

   Jack had smiled, but his heart hadn't been in it.  "I'll come to you as soon as I can, Winnie."

   That's when she'd known that he was going to go with Marcus to get Gandolfi.  "Jack, I'm serious.  You're in no condition to go after Gandolfi.  I don't want to get you back from the dead just to lose you to him.  I need you with me.  It's not easy being pregnant."

   "Winnie . . ."  She looked into his eyes and seen that he was more focused on the thought of revenge than on her arguments.

   "You're not listening to me."

   "I am, love.  I hear every word you're saying loud and clear –"

   "The you obviously don't care.  Why is getting this man more important to you than I am?"

   "That's unfair."

   "The truth isn't always fair, Jack."

   Jack had tried to take her hand, but she'd pulled it away.  "Winnie, love, we both know that Gandolfi isn't going to stay in the Caribbean forever.  Sooner or later he's going to scuttle back to Italy.  He'll be safely tucked away.  We need to get him while he's vulnerable – while he thinks he's succeeded."

   "Let Marcus get him.  Let the courts handle this –"

   "Without your testimony, the courts will have nothing to convict him with, and you can't testify against him without certain facts about your past bein' raised."  The woman was so frustrating.  She refused to see what was in front of her nose.

   "Norrington would help.  He doesn't want to admit it, but I think he's come to respect you.  I don't want to lose you."

   "Winnie!  The man tried to kill you and he tried to kill our child.  I may not be a gentleman, but I am a man, and I will protect my family."

   "Your family is safe, Jack.  Without you, there isn't a family.  There's me and a fatherless babe."

   "Love –"

   "Which is more important to you?   Me or your revenge?"  She knew it was an unfair question.  She knew she was asking him to deny his nature to make her happy, but at the moment she didn't care.  All that mattered was the sense of hurt tearing through her at the thought that Jack was willing to let her sit in boredom, loneliness, and fear, while he went out and risked his neck.

   Jack heard the tone for rejection in her voice, and he hated it.  He'd blame it on the pregnancy but that would only upset her more.  If he gave her enough time to think about things, she'd discover he was right and she'd get over this snit.  With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, and loosely embraced his stubborn wife.  She didn't resist him, but she didn't hug him back either, nor did she respond when he brushed a kiss over her cheek.  "I sent a friend to Swallows Rest to help keep an eye on you since I've no doubt that your family will have their hands full."  He flashed a smile, trying to placate her.  "Please, listen to your sisters.  I'll be along as soon as I can." 

   Winn translated this into, _I don't really trust you to behave yourself, but try to be a good little subordinate and wait for me because that's what I say._  Fine.  She'd go to Swallows Rest, but heaven help him if he wasn't there a week after her.

*   *   *   *   *

   The memory broke up as Winn flopped onto her back.  There was too much room in the bed.  She got up and spent the rest of the night watching the stars from her window seat.  As the sun rose, she finally nodded off, dried tears on her face.

The next morning Kendra rose with the sun and took the time alone to enjoy a bath – a  rare pleasure for her – and then wandered the vast Morgan household, still getting familiar with all the nooks and crannies of her surroundings.  _To think . . . Captain Morgan made enough from his raids to buy this . . . and still maintains it.  I doubt I could save near this much . . ._  Kendra sighed and snuck into the kitchen as she passed it, taking a loaf of bread and an apple, snacking as she wandered.  By the time most of the household was up Kendra was sitting comfortably in one of the large – well, enormous for her – armchairs in one of the downstairs rooms and was reveling in the sunlight cascading through the windows. 

   No one really disturbed her, but a few of the children peeked in before scampering off when she returned the gaze.  _Not wharf rats . . . but definitely just as skitterish.  _Bella walked in, and sat in the chair across from Kendra.  _Then again . . ._

   "Good morning Ken."

   Kendra tipped her hat.  "And a pleasant morning to you too, Miss Bella.  Did you sleep well?"

   Bella thought it was odd of this boy to ask her a question like that, but she answered.  "Reasonably."  The household had been too restless last night for real sleep.  Several of her younger cousins and siblings had been upset that they had been banned from their aunt's room.  The reason for which no one had explained yet.  _But perhaps I can get some answers from Ken.  _"Would it be all right if I asked you some questions?"

   Kendra grinned. "A course ye can. Just can't guarantee I'll answer all of 'em."

   _Typical.  _Bella returned the expression and leaned back in her chair.  "I wouldn't expect less of a pirate."

   "Question away, Miss Morgan."

   "What is your last name?"

   Kendra shrugged and looked to the ceiling.  "Don't have one."

   To this, Bella narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?  Were you are an orphan?"

   "I suppose that would be the usual term.  Found floating in the ocean.  Well, to be more exact I was an infant lying on some wreckage or whatnot, floating in the Caribbean.  A near-dead woman was holding me on.  The crew that found me – some pirates of the best sort – raised me and were unable to revive the woman."  Kendra lowered her gaze and winked at Bella.  "If that don't answer your question, I don't know what will."

   Bella's curiosity was not satiated, it only seemed to grow with ferocity.  "Cousin Will . . ." she paused and then decided to clarify.  "Well, he's not really a cousin, but he was found floating in wreckage too.  But he was old enough to remember his name."  Again the girl stopped as she ordered her thoughts.  Being used to sailors and their tales, she decided to see what else this boy knew.  "You were raised on a pirate ship?  What was life like?"

   Kendra frowned, mulling over this for a moment.  "Well . . . hard, dirty, and sometimes cramped.  But never really dull."  Kendra perked up and began to gesticulate.  "One time actually, the entire crew came up on this . . ."

It was nearly ten o'clock by the time Kendra escaped the curious Morgan offspring, and she was glad to have the opportunity to not wear her tongue out.  She'd clearly underestimated the girl.  _Really . . . how many questions can you ask? _ Kendra sighed and looked around for a bite to eat.  A pirate has to eat.

   She was in the midst of eating breakfast when her charge came down the stairs.  While she seemed to be in a better temper than the night before, Kendra still couldn't help but think of her as a bit of fluff with a temper.  _I'm disappointed.  I thought Sparrow had better sense._  But her food was too good to simply leave, and she wanted to see how Winn would react to having people around her before she turned her mind against the woman entirely.

   Winn, to put things nicely, was not in a good mood.  Jack had sided against her with her brothers and the Commodore to send her away to safety – _As if I'm a useless decoration!_ – He was going to go after Gandolfi after she'd asked him not to and when he was in no condition to do so – _He's in worse shape that I am.  He's supposed to be with me.  I need him and he needs to be in bed_. – She'd been seasick the entire way here, and to top it off, Grace and Cat had combined forces to keep her bedridden.  _Not that I have the patience for that at the moment.  This is still my home, I will go where I please._

   Kendra watched Winn and continued to munch on her second loaf of bread for the day.  _I've missed food . . . especially this good.  Perhaps I should look into getting a better cook for the _Dilettante. 

   Winn was so intent on making it to the table without being caught, that she didn't notice the small pirate at the foot of the table.  She wasn't too successful.  "Mz. Winn, fancy seein' you up an' around.  I thought you was supposed to be stayin' in bed."

   Winn smiled wryly, tucking away her private miseries.  She was an expectant mother, she needed to act like one.  "Hello Dominic.  It's good to be back, but I refuse to stay in bed all day.  I've been doing that for weeks now.  If I don't move around I'll lose my girlish figure."

   _Girlish figure indeed . . ._ Kendra scanned Winn up and down.  _Definitely pregnant._ _ Wouldn't know how far into it . . . but that's besides the point.  At least she doesn't have an irritating voice._  Memories of a French bit of fluff came to her and she shuddered as she thought of Janette's voice. 

   "So, while you're being rebellious, what can I get you, missy?"

   Winn smiled – Swallows Rest's nearly ancient cook had called her missy since the day she'd turned up on the doorstep.  The fact that she was old, married, and with child didn't phase the man at all.  "Fruit, and toast.  And some yogurt if there's any around.  I think that's all my stomach can handle at the moment."  The man had been around long enough to understand women and their eating habits while pregnant.  He simply nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

   "G'morning," Kendra nodded at Winn, tired of being ignored. 

   Winn turned as she was hailed.  The small person at the foot of the table that she'd taken for one of her nieces or nephews turned out to be someone else entirely upon inspection.  "I'm sorry.  I wish I could say my eyesight isn't very good, but the truth is I was focused on other things.  I'm Winn."

   "Ken, Mrs. Sparrow.  Glad to finally meet you."

   "You're the friend that Jack asked to keep me company?"  Winn was a bit puzzled why her husband had asked what appeared to be a cabin boy – and not a cabin boy of his – to look after her.  But at least she now understood the mischievous smile he'd given her.  _Did he think I needed someone to run errands for me?_

   Kendra smiled.  "I suppose that could be part of the duties."

   Winn shook her head and took a seat.  _Jack sent a cabin boy to look after me?_  Winn felt her temper struggle against her control, but she fought it.  She knew Jack, and she was determined to trust Jack even if she was mad at him.  He was only trying to do what was best, even if his protectiveness and bullheadedness rubbed her the wrong way.  If he'd sent this boy to provide an extra pair of eyes, then he had a good reason for doing so.  "I don't know what Jack told you, Ken, but I don't need someone to babysit me.  I don't want to offend, but I'm sure your idea of a good time isn't looking after an old, pregnant woman."

   _Babysit__ . . . like I'd ever do that._  She leaned back in her chair and smirked.  "No offense taken.  And don't worry.  I'm not here to babysit.  I'm more . . . in the protection business.  And I got to meet your grandfather.  That was the biggest incentive of the deal."

Winn felt her interest pique, despite her melancholy.  This boy didn't speak like other boys his age – she'd known her share of cabin boys – and there was too much of an air of . . . mysterious good-humor around the boy.  _Almost as if he's hiding something or is getting away with the biggest prank ever.  Jack often wears that face.  _If she didn't change the topic, she was going to start crying.  "Do you mind if I ask how you met Jack, Ken?"

   Kendra shrugged.  "I don't like going into details, but the ship I was on ran into some trouble.  I ended up bein' his cabin boy for a time."

   Winn nodded as Dom brought her breakfast.  _That must have been in the year or so before we met.  Jack hadn't had his ship back for too long before he raided the _Kestrel.

   She watched as Dom asked the boy, "Anything more for you, young master?"

   "Well . . ." Kendra mused, tapping her finger against her chin.  "If you got anymore of those rolls . . . I wouldn't mind helpin' unload you of them."  She grinned broadly.  "And some jam to go with them.  And butter too.  Not that I'd like to trouble you . . . but I haven't had food this good in ages!"

   Dom preened and Winn smiled.  As long as you had the cook on your side, then you were set.  That was one of the reasons that Marty was still running around the house.  Somewhere.  The bird hadn't made an appearance yet.  _He certainly eats like a cabin boy.  _"You said that one of the reasons you agreed to come here was the opportunity to meet Grandfather.  Have you been introduced to him yet?  I know that he'd appreciate someone new to tell all his stories to."

   "I actually spoke with him yesterday."  Kendra picked at the last scraps on her plate.  "But I'm to speak to him this afternoon.  Undoubtedly to hear his stories.  And as foolish as it may seem to you, I look forward to it.  It's not every day that you get to meet a living legend."

   "I understand."  _Sometimes it's hard living with a legend though.  At least I was used to it by the time I married Jack._  Jack . . . who wasn't here . . . who was out risking his neck again.  "Well, I don't know about you, but _certain_ legends are nearly unbearable," Winn muttered under her breath.

   Kendra raised an eyebrow.  "You find your grandfather unbearable?"

   Winn blushed, but fought to keep her mask of good-humor.  _I'll be so glad once this babe comes and things return to normal  "_No.  Sorry.  I'm afraid this pregnancy has made me a bit emotional and my husband is giving me reason to worry.  It's not exactly a good combination."

   "Ah," Kendra nodded and smiled to herself.  "I agree though."  She closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.  "Sparrow can be irritating at times.  Quite irritating."

   Her temper settled, and for the first time in nearly a week, a genuine smile graced Winn's face.  "Ken, I think you and I are going to get along rather well."

   Kendra looked to Winn and grinned.  "Good to hear, Winn . . . I can call ye Winn, right?"

   "Yes, that is what I would prefer."

   Kendra nodded.  "The way I see it . . . I'll end up bein' here for a time.  You wouldn't happen to know what the latest news with Sparrow is?  I haven't seen him since he was hauled in by the Brits."  Kendra was startled when tears suddenly sprung from Winn's eyes.  "Are ye all right?"  Kendra stood from her seat and took a step towards her.  "Is . . . Sparrow in trouble?"

   "Oh, always.  But he'd certainly better not be at the moment."  Winn was doing her best to stem her tears.  "I'm sorry.  Like I said, I'm a bit emotional at times."

   Kendra hesitated a moment before sitting down.  "'Tis okay.  If . . . if this is too touchy of a subject, ye don't have to tell me.  I . . ." she forced a smile.  "I'm just a bit curious, I guess."

    _He's diplomatic for someone so young.  _"No, it's alright.  Umm . . . Jack is . . . recovering."

    Kendra's eyes narrowed.  This was not the sort of news she wanted to hear.  "From what, pray tell?  Did they try to put some punishment on him?"

   "It was my fault."  Winn stopped to take a breath.  "The politics in the area have fired up a bit since the colonies have been giving the king trouble.  He sent one of his advisors out to . . . measure the possibility of an uprising I suppose.  This man was in Port Royal when they brought Jack and me in, and he decided that it would be best if . . . if there was a formal sentencing, and he made Jack and I both go.  And then after promising that I wouldn't have to testify, he called me up, but I was having trouble walking.  I fell and Jack caught me.  You can imagine how that went over."

   Kendra sat with most of the muscles in her body tense, an agitated expression. "Aye . . . them bloody magistrates will get a taste of me blade after this whole business is over.  First chance I get."

   "That's what I had determined.  But then I found out that Jack was alive and recuperating, and I lost a lot of my anger.  Besides, as Jack pointed out, challenging a man to a duel while pregnant might not be the best of ideas."  Winn sniffed.  "You must think I'm some horribly weepy woman.  I'm usually not like this.  Really.  It's just that so much has happened so fast."

   Kendra smiled weakly.  _Poor woman.  I guess I was a bit quick to judge . . . This **is** the woman that Sparrow's stuck with for three years at least.  As pretty as Jeanette was, he was quick to get rid of her when the opportunity arose._  "It's understandable.  When Sparrow saw me . . . I wasn't in the best of spirits either.  But what was the punishment?"

   "Thirty-five lashes," Winn whispered, looking down at her lap.  What if her husband had died and she simply didn't know._  Why did I let them talk me into leaving?_

   For a moment, time froze. _Thirty-five . . . lashes._  Before she was aware of what she was doing, Kendra was on her feet and her cutlass was in hand, her body trembling with suppressed rage. 

   Winn took a deep breath as she watched the young pirate react.  "Exactly.  But he's going to be fine.  He was conscious, I talked to him.  And the Commodore is talking good care of him.  As is my brother."

   Kendra breathed deeply, then sheathed her blade and sat down.  "Definitely plucking every British ship that dares to harbor a magistrate. What was the man's name? Hallington?"

   "Yes.  How did you know?"

   "I was by the stairs last night. I observed you for a bit.  Hallington was one of the names you mentioned with a bit of disgust."

   "Oh."  Winn was about to continue when three stern faced women came into the room.  Kendra would have spoken to them, but instead looked to her plate, letting the facts settle in.

   "Winn."

   "Cat, Grace, Elizabeth."  Winn nodded to each woman, then fell quiet.  The silence stretched and Winn finally spoke.  "I'm not an invalid.  I can walk without feeling pain or exhausting myself.  All I did was come down for some breakfast.  It's not as if I went for an early morning swim or something."  Winn hoped someone would mention that she _never_ went for early morning swims because she wasn't a good swimmer.  No one did.  

   Cat merely shook her head.  "Well, I'm glad you're up.  Grandfather has been asking after you.  He wants to hear a full report from you."  Winn grimaced.  "Your own fault, Freddy – if you're up and about, you're well enough for a well-meaning interrogation."

   Winn nodded and stood.  No one said no to the Captain when he wanted answers.  "Ken, it was a pleasure meeting you, and I look forward to talking to you more."  She left the room with the other women.

   Kendra let out a soft, "You too, Winn," but the woman was out of the room before she could hear the remark.  Kendra turned to her own thoughts as she finished her meal.  _Thirty-five lashes . . . think it's high time to send out the _Dilettante_ for some plundering . . . can't have the crew lounging around with nothing to do for too long.  _A smirk slid onto her face.  "Soon, Hallington . . ."

************************************************************* **

**Author's Thanks:**

**bobo3**** – yes, yes, yes . . . you got to read this before everyone else.  ^_^  **

**TaraRose**** – I totally agree – they really needed to keep those scenes in.**

**lilitaliandragon**** – yeah, people keep telling me that.**

**Dawnie****-7 – romance?  *looks around*  I know nothing.**

**jackfan2**** – well, as much as I like the idea of a fiercely protective Winn, I'm not quite ready for that yet.  I'm trying to wring all the emotion that can out of this.**

**KamikazeCreamPuff**** – ^ _^**

**VagrantCandy**** – it won't take them as long as it took Jack.  **

**Erica Dawn – **you're right.  It's already over.  ; )

**NightSkyFlight**** – I agree.  Benny and Joon is a very cool movie.  Lots of fun quotes, especially about raisins.  ; )**

**pirate-miss**** – well, I hope this chapter is right up there with the last.**

**Curiosity Inc. – **can I just say that I really love you name?  That's so cool.  I was so scared of writing Norrington at first, but it seems like I've managed to do a respectable job of capturing the man.  I'm glad that you took the time to update, and as a new reviewer, you can rock my puzzle head of King Tut.

**Lila Elensar – **your reviews always make me laugh.  They're so short and to the point.  Keep it up.

**Eledhwen**** – I have no idea what you mean by Kendra and Alex.  *whistles innocently***

**WakingDream**** – thanks.  I got really sick of the 'evil Norrington' stereotype as well.  Although, sometimes when I look at him, I think I'm channeling the spirit of EstelWolfe's Norrington.  Hard to tell.**

**CaptainJackSparrowsGirl**** – please, direct all complements to bobo3, Kendra is hers after all.**

**SuzzieQue**** – wow, this turned out to be another long chapter.**

**Golden Rose3 – **you're right, I'd never kill him off.  I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

**RadioActiveSocks**** – as I said earlier, Kendra isn't mine.  She belongs to a lovely author named bobo3, and you can learn more about her if you go read 'Four-Sided Eyes'  Thanks for the compliments to Winn and Jack.**

**pendraggingink**** – stares in complete awe.  *wow*  That has got to be the longest review that anyone has ever given me through ff.net.  In fact, I think you may be tied with Arwen Lune for giving me the longest review ever.  I really did take some of the things you said to heart, and some of that is reflected in this chapter, although I don't really remember where.  I appreciate the time and thought you put into that, and I want you to know that I went back and tinkered with the word 'unconscious.'  You won't see the result until I post the final edition of this fic, but you did help out.  Thanks much for the suggestions, the comments, and the encouragement.**

**BlueTrinity**** – I really am sorry about making you cry all the time.  Not sure how long I'll make Gandolfi suffer – I'm not sure I can make Jack coldheartedly torture someone without ruining the character I've built, but rest assured that Gandolfi will get his.**


	31. Hurricane Season

**Author's Note: another fun chapter.  I swear, I made myself cry this time around.  I've _never_ done that before.  Never.  But I really like this chapter, just like I've loved the past few.  I hope you all like it too.**

**Oh, and Kendra is here, taking a break from her fic, Four-Sided Eyes.  Go read that too.**

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**At Swallows Rest:**

   A week quickly passed, although for Winn it seemed as if it took forever.  She'd discovered on the morning after her arrival why Grandfather had not been there to welcome her – he was too weak to get out of his bed.  She didn't really know why she was surprised, he had lived longer than anyone expected, had out lived his wife by ten years.  But it was hard to see a man she'd always viewed as unchanging was slowly slipping away.

   "Winnie?"

   "Aye, Grandpapa.  I'm here."  Winn sat up in her chair, holding back a moan as her muscles complained loudly.

   "What are you doing here?  You should be in bed, or pacing the floors in anticipation of your husband's arrival."

   "He's not coming, Grandpapa.  At least not any time soon.  Besides, I want to spend time with you while I can."  Winn came over and sat on the edge of the bed, taking once strong hands in hers.  Marty had been keeping her company, and he came over and he followed her over to the bed, taking a position at the head, nearly hidden by the curtains.  "Tell me a story.  I want my child to hear its great-grandfather's voice."

   "Winnie – he's but doing what he thinks is best for you."

   "The he wasn't listening to me when I said that what I needed was him here with me.  I'm tired of constantly worrying about him.  I'm tired of feeling as if I'm being taken for granted simply because I'm with child.  The only reason being pregnant has slowed me down is because no one will let me _do_ anything."

   "You're not happy to be here, but I, on the other hand, am very glad that you are."

   Winn listened to her own words and cringed.  "I'm sorry, Grandfather."

   The old man shook his head.  "Why are you sorry?  I've lived a long life, I got the chance to meet and marry a beautiful woman, had two healthy sons by her.  I have four intelligent, courageous, and content grandchildren who met and married spouses that appreciate and love them.  I have nineteen healthy great-grandchildren, and another on the way.  I'm leaving behind a legacy as well as stories, and with any luck, I'll see my wife again."

   "But I'll miss you?"

   "And you miss your husband as well."

   "But that's by his own doing.  There's nothing I can do about . . ." she gestured, ". . . about this."

   "Then you've learned."

   "What?"

   Henry Morgan shifted on his bed.  "Life is like the waves Winnie – it wears down all types of stone.  What matters is how hard that stone is.  Granite lasts longer than limestone.  When you came here, you were a girl haunted by the thought that she . . . was unfairly plagued by death.  But if you've come to realize that you can't change some things, then you've learned, and you're wiser for the learning.  You're a step above limestone."

   "Just a step?"  Morgan looked at her as if she should be pleased with what she had.  Winn shrugged.  "Stubbornness must count for something."

   "That's my girl."

   A knock came on the door.  Winn groaned and stood up, bracing her back.  She had turned into such a weakling in the past months.  She opened the door to find Ken on the threshold.  The boy had been spending several hours with Morgan every day, hours that Winn used to sit in the corner and sketch, since the lad didn't necessarily like her wandering around alone.  Not that anyone could ever be alone in this house.  "I thought that was you," she smiled.  Having a new set of ears to pour tales into had greatly delighted her grandfather and there was no way she'd deny him that.  It was also impossible to deny the lad the opportunity to listen – his wide eyes and open mouth spoke for themselves.  Not that he wasn't quick to grasp the reasons behind certain patterns of attack or unusual tactics.  Winn often thought he showed _too much understanding for a cabin boy, but she merely stored the feeling away with all the other peculiarities she'd observed about the boy._

   Sooner or later she would solve the puzzle.

   She wouldn't have to wait if Jack were here.

   _He'll come._

   But would it be soon enough?

Kendra had been thrilled by the past week.  Nay, exuberant.  Life was calm, the food was almost unbearably good and plentiful, she got to know Winn better – Kendra thoroughly enjoyed her company – and she had the full attention of the man she'd idolized for a few hours each day.  She would have been fulfilled even just getting a solitary hour.  But this . . . brought her true joy. Or so she'd like to think.  It was as close to joy as she'd ever been.

   _And my disguise is still working.  Though it did take Sparrow quite a bit of time . . . and he just thought I was '__Pierre_' the cabin lass for a time._  She grinned inside and waited for the Captain to stop coughing.  She held out a glass of water, waiting for him to take it.  She'd become accustomed to caring for the older man, but only to a small extent.  She had bandaged her fair share of pirates, but didn't dare to try to care for anything past a cut or small gash. _

   "Are ye all right, Captain?"

   He coughed once more, then nodded, taking the glass of water and sipping it.  "Now where was I?"

   "I believe you were just about to . . ."

   Winn listened as her grandfather spun yarn after yarn for the small boy.  She'd heard these tales so many times, but never with the exuberance the boy showed.  Her father had been a privateer, and piracy no mystery, but it'd never truly attracted her . . . not like the opportunity to please the remnants of her family had.

   Kendra threw a glance at her charge as the Captain brought another tale to a close.  The woman looked wistful and pensive.  "Somethin' the matter, Winn?"  Winn didn't look up from her drawing pad.  Kendra frowned and nodded at the Captain.  "Just a moment," she said before heading over to Winn and standing before her, looking down at the drawing.  Her eyes widened as she saw the portrait that Winn had drawn.

   It was a picture of Jack at the wheel of his ship, his hair whipping about his face as a stormed raged on around him.  "This is . . . amazing."

   Winn simply let out a dry laugh.  She hadn't drawn that because she'd wanted to, she'd drawn it because she had to get it out of her.  Kendra looked at that paper and saw a storm – Winn looked at it and saw all the anger and loneliness and yearning that was slowly building up inside of her.  If Jack didn't come here and soon as he could – if he didn't come to her immediately after leaving Port Royal – she knew he was going to have to face that storm, because she wasn't sure how much longer she could bleed those emotions off. 

**Aboard the HMS Redemption:**

   The door to the cabin Jack had been in for the past week opened.  Marcus stepped in, shedding rain as he did.  "We've reached the estate."  Jack nodded and reached for pistol and cutlass, tying them around his waist securely, but carefully.  It'd been two weeks since his lashing, but his back was still covered with cuts, although most were covered over with scabs by now.  Donning hat and coat, Jack went outside with Marcus, reveling in the rain being blown into his face by the wind.

   They'd been prepared to go ashore the night before, but word had come that Gandolfi had relocated from Clarence Town to Deadman's Cay.  Jack had felt a grin spread over his face at that news – the first he'd shown since Winn had left.  The name was incredibly appropriate.  _Poetic justice.  Ironic._  Tonight.  Tonight Gandolfi would learn how large a mistake he'd made a month ago when he let his prisoners go.

Marcus had led the attack on the main house, not that much resistance had been given at first.  The servants on the edges of the estate were loyal to the crown and let the redcoats by without protest.  It was when they'd reached the manor house that they'd encountered resistance.

   For a good part of the fight, Jack had stayed to the edges.  It'd been hard enough to convince Marcus to let him come ashore and he was still not at the top of his game.  He wanted to conserve enough energy to face Gandolfi.

   Once it was clear that the British had things in hand, Jack had entered the house, dodging sparring men and the occasional fist.  It was almost like walking though the rowdier parts of Tortuga, except there was no undertone of good-humor here.  

   He'd been grateful to reach the stairs and climb into the upper reaches of the house, leaving the massive brawl behind him.  He had no business with the Italian's supporters – his business was with no one but Gandolfi, and he only had so long before Marcus came upstairs as well.  If his brother-in-law found the merchant before Jack did, then he'd lose his chancel that had been agreed upon before they'd even left Port Royal.  Marcus had to obey the law since he was here as a representative of the Crown.  Jack was the one who could act as he wished.  And he was determined to see Gandolfi pay for the pain he'd put Winn through.

   Jack searched room after room, unsheathed sword in his hand, as the noise from downstairs leaked through the floor.  They were all empty.  Frustration filled him as each provided another disappointment.  Had the man escaped?  Had he fled like a coward?  Jack didn't think he would – it was more in character for the man to be shouting directions to his men, but he wasn't doing that either.  _Come out –  Pain suddenly flared along his back.  Jack twirled, sword-arm extended to keep his attacker at bay.  His eyes sought out the man who'd attacked him.  _There you are.__

   Gandolfi was staring at Jack in dismay.  "You're dead."

   "So they say."  Jack quickly slipped into his captain persona, a mask of distracted joviality slipping over his face.  "And if they're right, I suppose I don't need this, do I?"  Jack dropped his cutlass.  He didn't doubt that the Italian would have fought dirty anyway.  

   Gandolfi, not the most balanced of men in the first place, backed away.  "What trick of the devil is this?" he hissed.  "Did you sell your soul to him for revenge?"

   "No, things never got quite that desperate."  Jack leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.  "Game's up, mate.  I must commend you for taking such a daring risk, but unfortunately, you've lost.  You bet on the wrong man.  Winn is still alive, her child still in her belly, and I, despite the rumors, never died."

   "You lie."

   "I hurt to much to lie."  Jack watched the man out of hooded eyes as the Italian gathered his courage.  "I'd run downstairs and surrender yourself, if I was you.  The British will probably go easy on you, although I'm afraid their commanding officer isn't too happy with you.  It _was his sister that you poisoned."_

   "I poisoned no one's sister.  I took revenge on a pirate, just as I will soon send you to meet your maker."

   Jack sighed.  "People keep saying that, but the only people I've meet have been my brother-in-laws, Commodore Norrington, and one very self-important Chancellor."  Jack pretended to study his fingernails, watching as Gandolfi came a step closer.  "I wouldn't do that if I were you, mate."

   "I'm no coward to run from an unarmed pirate."  Gandolfi raised his sword, ready to end things then and there . . . but Jack was quicker.  

   "Don't say I didn't warn you."  He quickly freed one of his pistols and shot the man in the arm.  Gandolfi dropped his weapon, looking at his wound in shock.  "Now that we're on equal ground, let me point out the one thing that went wrong with your plan."  He pulled his other pistol and advanced on Gandolfi.  "You assumed that you had captured two pirates, one of whom had killed your son in cold blood.  What you really had was a pirate and the reluctant grandchild of a pirate.  And that grandchild has friends and family."  Gandolfi was retreating, finally seeing beyond the raffish exterior of the man before him.  The eyes staring into his were stony with cold humor.  Jack let the man keep walking, but held his pistol at the ready.  "Family who picked her up – her brother is the captain of that Navy ship you had us choose between.  Her sister-in-law is a midwife who helped her keep the babe.  True, Commodore Norrington was on the ship, and he's not my biggest admirer, but he's a good man and an old acquaintance of my wife.  He did what he could to ensure I didn't face the noose."  He watched as the old man's face twisted with hate.  "He also did what he could to make sure that you and I would have this meeting."  Thunder boomed outside the house, the wind picked up, and a tree branch came crashing through a window.

   Jack turned to it in surprise and Gandolfi took advantage of the pirate's distraction.  He reached for his own pistol, quickly bringing it up to bear on Jack.  Jack turned back to his opponent just in time to see him fire the weapon . . . .

   . . . but it was too late.  Marcus had come onto the little scene unnoticed.  He brought the flat of his sword up, knocking the aim off.  The bullet slammed harmlessly into a wall.  Gandolfi turned to face this new attacker, tripping on a lose rug as he did.  With a cry of anger, he fell over the banister and dropped.  Jack and Marcus both raced over to see where he'd landed – the merchant was lying on the floor some thirty feet below, the angle of his neck testifying to the merchant's fate.

   Both men looked at each other, almost glad that gravity had taken care of either of them having to put a pistol ball in the man's heart.

   Marcus clapped Jack on the shoulder, then went back downstairs to supervise his men.  Jack stayed where he was for the time being, watching out of masked eyes as two redcoats came over to move Gandolfi's body.  After all that it had taken to get him here, after all that he'd watched Winn suffer, after all the waiting and the decision to disregard Winn's request that he go to her . . . this was almost anticlimactic.  Not that Jack had expected to find pleasure in Gandolfi's death – he was simply doing what had to be done to protect his family – but he had expected to feel a surcease of impending doom.  But the feeling that something was not right lingered.

   _You're imagining things, Jack old boy.  He shook his head, baubles clanking against each other.  He remembered that he'd sent one of them to Winn and that he still hadn't gotten it back.  _That settles that, then._  Moving slowly, feeling his back ache with every move of his arms, Jack sheathed his sword and went down the stairs.  _

   It took some minutes, but he found Marcus.  He waited for the other man to complete a set of orders, then swung an arm around the young captain's shoulders, wincing as one of his wounds pulled.  "What say you to deliverin' me to my wife?"

**Swallows Rest:**

   "Winn, wake up."  Winn struggled to ignore the hand shaking her, attempting to roll onto her stomach before remembering that she couldn't anymore.

   "Go 'way, Liz.  I's'not morning yet."

   Elizabeth rolled her eyes, too impatient to have to deal with her friend's obstinacy at the moment.  "Winn, it's your grandfather.  He wants to see you."

   Winn sighed, still unwilling to get up.  Then Elizabeth's words registered on her mind.  Slowly, moaning like a stuck whale, she climbed out of bed.  She _hurt_ . . . all over.  She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a full night's sleep with a dream or her babe waking her.  She missed her husband, practically _ached_ for his support.  She was furious with him because if all had gone according to plan and Norrington had let him leave when he'd said he would, then he would have been here about two weeks ago.  And if her grandfather was calling her in the middle of the night, that could only mean one thing.  _Jack, why?_ she silently demanded of him.  _I want to see Gandolfi pay too, but **I** need you more.  Surely revenge could have waited a few more days._  

   Winn donned her dressing gown and went with Elizabeth, leaning on her friend as they went up the stairs to her grandfather's room.  Once they reached, Elizabeth squeezed Winn's hand, then let go.  Winn stared at the door, took a deep breath, blinked back the beginnings of tears, and walked into the room.

   When she saw the mass of people in the room, she almost laughed.  The grand patriarch, blessing each member of his family before . . . before . . . .  Winn took another deep breath.  _I can do this.  I can do this for Grandfather.  Silently, she went and stood next to Grace.  Her sister-in-law reached over and took her hand.  Winn squeezed it tightly, then rested her head against Grace's shoulder.  She looked around the room; Ry and Cat stood together, their brood in front of them, listening as Morgan spoke to them.  Richard and Sarah had arrived two days before, and they as well had cornered their children.  They were waiting to speak to Morgan just as Grace was standing with her family.  Winn wondered if Grace were as mad at Marcus for not being here as she was at Jack for not standing at her side at this time.  Miraculously, all the babies were quiet, either asleep or watching the proceedings with grave eyes.  Marty stood in one corner, Pige was bracing Winn's other side.  Elizabeth, Will, and Ken were all at the doorway._

   _And so goes a feared and reviled pirate captain – surrounded by his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and friends.  Ry and his family stepped back to let Richard's branch take their turn.  He immediately came over and shooed Pige out of the way, letting Winn rest her weight against him.  Cat shot her a understanding glance as she shooed her passel of tired children out of the room._

   Winn didn't know how long she waited for her turn to talk to Morgan.  As in all else, the proper order of things was obeyed, each grandchild paying their respects in a succession of age.  Finally it was her turn, as she came to sit on the edge of her grandfather's bed, Ry and Richard closed to door to the room so it was just the Morgan grandchildren – minus a captain – waiting to wish Henry Morgan farewell.

   "Winnie."

   "Yes, Grandfather, I'm here."  She didn't look away from his face but knew that her brothers had retreated to give them some privacy.

   "I don't know if this story was ever told to you, but your grandmother left me once."  Winn bowed her head, knowing that he was trying to make a point, but her heart wasn't ready to hear it yet.  "She left me, for reasons that aren't important anymore.  When she came back though, I was still upset that . . . that she had even considered not being at my side.  For days I was mad at her, wouldn't speak to her, would barely look at her.  The Morgan temper, I'm afraid, is hard to overcome at times.  Eventually she came to me and said that if I wasn't going to stop behaving like a child who'd had a favorite toy taken away, she'd leave until I was ready to start behaving like a husband again.  I thought she was joking, but she did leave, and it took me months to track her down again."  She really didn't want to be hearing this – she wanted to hold on to her anger.  "Winnie, look at me."  She did, and saw complete acceptance and understanding in her grandfather's eyes.  "Don't let pride and anger rob you of the next months, Winnie."  She nodded, knowing it would be a fight, knowing she didn't particularly care to wage it at the moment.

   Henry saw this as well, and it saddened him that Winn would have to make her own stubborn way through life when counsel had already been offered and freely given, but not surprised.  His only granddaughter was strong and she loved her husband.  All would turn out well.  "Play a song for me, Winnie."

   "Alright," she whispered, reaching for her recorder.  For the past few days, she'd been playing him the hymns that Isabella Morgan had so loved, and while to most those might seem appropriate for the occasion, Winn knew it wasn't.  Slowly but steadily, she started playing a song that her father had taught her, a song she'd taught Elizabeth, a song she often caught Jack humming or murmuring under his breath.  _We extort, we pilfer, we filch, we sack/Drink up me 'earties, yo-ho/ Maraud and embezzle, an even high-jack/Drink up me 'earties, yo-ho/Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me . . ._

 She managed to reach the end just as her grandfather's eyes closed for the last time, managed to hold back tears until then.  As the last note died, her eyes closed and the tears came, and she relaxed into the hold of her brothers, resenting the entire time that the arms didn't belong to Jack.

As Kendra stood at the door to Morgan's room, she thought.  _Death . . . I've seen it plenty, but . . . this hurts so much worse.  Kendra closed her eyes and was glad that she hadn't become more attached to Captain Morgan.  _I don't know if I could keep back tears if that were the case . . .  __

   The pirate watched as Elizabeth helped Winn up the stairs, watched as the woman gathered her strength to enter the room, then looked away.  _I can't watch . . . this hurts too much.  She waited patiently as one group of children after another filed out, mothers hustling them to bed.  She saw that Ry came over and closed the door to the Captain's room._

   Even though the door to the room was now shut, Kendra stayed, waiting for her charge.  The woman hadn't been looking well when she'd gone in, but that was to be expected really.  When the notes of a familiar tune started to creep past the door, Kendra clamped her eyes shut, her hand firmly in her pockets to hide the fists.  _Think positively Kendra . . . he lived a full life.  I got to meet him and spend a lot of time with him.  He . . . he was impressed with you.  Even if he never really knew who or what you were . . . at least he respected the pirate in you._

   Slowly she regained control of her emotions and opened her eyes to find Cat and Sarah both waiting for their husbands.  A silently mourning, yet cohesive family.  _How I envy them . . . even in his death.  The only family I have is . . . my crew.  And even that isn't permanent.  Sparrow better get here soon.  Or else I'll turn into a weepin' pansy . . .  _Outside, a storm raged, as if the sea were upset over losing a faithful friend.  _Goodbye Captain Morgan.  Goodbye . . . _

The morning of Morgan's funeral was as bright and perfect as anyone could wish.  As Winn stood at the recently filled grave, she looked out over the harbor, thinking.  _This was why he stayed here.  This view is why he built the house here._  As had happened in the past, Winn had retreated behind a wall of ice to keep from collapsing.  Despite having lived like this for so many years, she now found the fit to be uncomfortable, as if she were being squeezed into a mold that didn't suit her.

   For another second she stood at the gravesite as the other friends, shipmates, and mourners filed away.  Once she was alone, except for Will who had babysitting duty today, she whispered, "Tell Grandmama hello for me."  With a simple gesture, she tossed the two birds-of-paradise she held on the grave, then allowed Will to help her back to the house.  It upset her that she needed the help, that her legs still weren't convinced they wanted to support her, but what angered her was that she had to depend on the support of others.  She had never been one to let others close, and while she'd grown better in that department, she only felt truly comfortable relying on her husband . . . who wasn't here.  All her thoughts seemed to revolve back to that one point.  Winn knew she was obsessing and that she was upsetting herself for no reason, but she couldn't stop.

   "How are you holding up?"

   Winn tried to smile but was afraid that her expression was closer to a grimace.  "Not as well as it looks like."

   "You miss him?"

   "Grandfather?"  Will nodded.  "Yes . . . but . . . that's a bearable pain.  Grandfather lived a long and happy life.  He was ninety-seven – for a pirate, that's almost unheard of."

   "Then what's wrong?"

   "What do you think is wrong, Will?"  

   The blacksmith hesitated for a moment before saying anything.  Winn, whether or not she was at full strength or not, was still a force to be reckoned with.  However, she was insisting on holding onto misconceptions about Jack's absence.  "He's only trying to do what's right by you and the child."

   "Everyone thinks Jack is dead.  Word has swept the Caribbean in the weeks since we left Port Royal – Gandolfi isn't a threat anymore.  How would it hurt to let him think he's won?  It can't.  There's no need for Jack to go after him."

   "But _Jack needs to go after him.  When Barbossa took Elizabeth, I knew that the Commodore was going to go after her, but that didn't change __my need to do something."_

   "Yes, but you did that to get Liz back.  I _am back.  I'm back and my husband isn't."_

   "Winn . . . you went after Jack knowing that he wasn't going to be glad to see you and that you were going to placing yourself at risk.  But you did it because you love your husband.  Jack's doing the same thing you did, except the only person he's placing at risk is himself."

   _Yes, he's going of by himself, and we all know how well that worked the last time he tried it.  Despite this thought, Will's words still stung, although Winn denied that there was any truth to them.  "If he loved me, he'd be here."_

   The two reached the house where most of the guests had already partaken in a first round of rum or ale.  Henry Morgan was being remembered and celebrated in the way he would have wanted.  Everywhere Winn looked, there were tears and laughter commingled, tales and truths being told.  She couldn't stay for this.  It was too loud, too busy, to . . . alive.  Right now, all she craved was the solitude and safety of her room.

   Winn looked around and found that her small shadow had reappeared.  "Ken, I'm going to go up to my room for a bit."  She didn't want the lad to worry if he couldn't find her.  The boy nodded, his hand resting on his belt.  He was undoubtedly missing the presence of his cutlass, but weapons had been put away for the day.  With so many guests – many of whom were pirates – the Morgans had had to make the choice between banning weapons of alcohol, and they had chosen to go the safer route.  "Don't worry about coming up and keeping me company.  I just want to be alone for awhile."  Ken nodded, but he didn't disappear into the crowd as most cabin boys and all of Winn's nephews would have done.  Again Winn felt the suspicion that what she saw was not what she was looking at, that Ken was hiding something, but she tucked it away.  That was a mystery best saved for when her mind decided to turn back to the absence of her husband.

  Ry had come forward to take Will's place as Winn headed to her room.  To get to the closest staircase that would lead upstairs, they had pass through the entrance hall.  When they were halfway across the large room, front doors suddenly opened.  Winn looked up from her study of her rapidly disappearing feet to see two people she knew in the doorway:  her brother and her wayward husband.  Marcus only nodded to her before going off to find Grace, but Jack stayed on the threshold, searching her face with his eyes.

   The first thing Jack noticed was that despite all Winn's claims to be well, she was leaning rather heavily on her older brother.  The second thing he noticed was that she was less than happy to see him.  Understandable – her grandfather had just died and he'd been absent for that.  But the mask on her face went pass grief and simple anger.  No, what he was looking at was something he hadn't seen in five years – the same barrier of ice that'd overtaken her the day they'd gotten engaged.  _This isn't going to be easy._  Jack left the doorway, taking several steps towards his still stunned wife.  "Winnie, I'm so – "

   Winn shook her head, "Don't touch me, Jack."  Her eyes were a flat grey, her voice sharp as a blade.  "Just _don't_."

   _Okay . . . this is going to more than difficult.  Jack didn't stop his advance.  If he could just touch her, maybe she'd let go.  "Winnie, listen to me."_

   "No.  _No_."  All her anger and feelings of abandonment from the past two weeks rose up in a wave that drowned out everything else.  In a single, violent motion, Winn pulled away from her brother and wrenched a pistol from the wall.  With confidence and coolness, she pointed it at Jack.

   _Maybe this wasn't my best idea ever.  "Put the gun down, love."_

   "Are you betting this isn't loaded?  Did you assume that they were all here for decoration?"  This was a pirate's household, and it was prepared to defend itself.  Winn felt bitter laughter welling up inside her, but she stifled it.  She was not going to give into hysterics quite yet.  "The only way you'll get me to put down this pistol is to hurt me.  Are you going to pull your blade, Jack?"  The words sounded teasing and challenging at the same time, but Winn's eyes were empty of anything save a bitter cold wall of betrayal.  "If you cut me, do you think I'll still bleed?"  Jack was silent and she nodded, more to herself than in response to his lack of reply.  "Go away, Jack.  Leave.  That seems to be what you prefer of late."

   "Winnie –"  Jack was interrupted when the bullet from Winn's pistol flew two inches from his head to imbed itself in the door behind him.  He froze.  _I suppose that wasn't a bluff.  _Before he could gather his wits and take advantage of her current state of defenselessness, Winn had pulled another pistol from the wall and was holding it in a steady hand.

   "You lost any right to dictate to me when you decided I needed a dictator to run my life.  Leave, or the next bullet is going to come a lot closer."

   There was nothing he could do.  Winn wasn't willing to listen to him at the moment.  Without another word or a single glance back, Jack turned on his heal and left.

   Winn watched him go, watched as a speechless butler closed the door behind her estranged husband, watched as her family stared on in amazement.  Still bound in ice, she replaced the pistol she'd taken from the wall and walked up the stairs to her room with her head held high.  She was a Morgan.  She would not suffer to have someone tell her how to live.  Not even her own heart which was shattering somewhere deep inside her, for she'd seen in his eyes that by making a decision to stay on land, she'd severed the only thing holding Jack to her.  A vow.  _What have I done?_

Winn knew someone come into her room when the sounds coming up from the downstairs increased.  Her grandfather was being sent of in grand pirate style, but she had no heart for it.  _It's probably just Cat.  Or perhaps __Elizabeth__, she thought.  She was standing at her window, looking out at the bay below.  "If it's a girl, I thought about naming her 'Abigail.'  It means, 'my father's joy.'  I think it would be good for my child to know that if their father was here, that he would find joy in them."_

   "I wouldn't know anything about that."  

   Winn looked up to see Kendra in her doorway.  "Playing messenger again?"

   "Perhaps."

   _A  boy__ wouldn't be nearly as sensitive as to be here on his own.  I wonder. . .  Winn smiled whimsically, leaving her grief behind for a bit.  "So, how long have you been at this?"_

   Kendra looked over at Winn in confusion.  "Been at what?"

   "This façade."

   "What façade?"  Kendra hoped dearly that Winn had suddenly become overcome by grief and was babbling to herself.  Somehow though . . . she knew that was not the case.  Winn's eyes were too focused to be merely babbling senselessly.

   "Is Ken short for something?"  Winn looked to Kendra and held her gaze.

   Kendra opened her mouth to give a witty retort and then could not pull her eyes away from Winn's.  The woman's eyes pleaded for the truth – for something to distract her from her thoughts.  _Maybe _**_this__ is how she broke Sparrow . . .  She knows, might as well admit to it.  _Sighing, Kendra blinked and dropped her gaze to the floor.  "It's Kendra."**

   "Ah," Winn nodded and kept her smile.  "You really did fool me for a time."

   "Feel proud, it took Sparrow quite a few more weeks to figure me out."  She hesitantly lifted her gaze.

   "Oh?"  Winn had to hold back a shiver at her husband's name.  "How did you meet Jack anyway?"

   "Well . . . it was a few years back.  Before he met you, I suppose.  We were . . .  acquainted."

   Winn watched Kendra and was about to press further, but catching a glimpse of Kendra's quick sidelong glances made her hesitate.  Kendra seemed calm, but her darting glances gave away her anxiety.  Obviously having her well kept secrets come out was not such a pleasant thing for the pirate, and pressing her further may not be a wise decision.  The sensation of feeling trapped was one she could relate to at the moment.  "I really blew it, Ken."

   "You shot at him.  I would say so."

   Winn tried to laugh, but it came out as a strangled sob.  "All I wanted was to have him with me, but when he showed up . . . I lost it."

   Kendra hesitated with what to do next.  Something inside her told her to try to comfort the woman . . . but how?  She was not one familiar with comfort . . . she'd grown up a pirate for cryin' out loud.  "Well, take some time for yourself.  Let your emotions calm a bit.  I can talk to him if you'd like . . . or do you want me to stay here with you?  If . . ." she bit her lip for a moment, then forced a smile.  "If you need someone to talk to or cry or anything, I'm here for you."

   Winn saw the plain discomfort on the small pirate's face, and despite her own misery, had to smile.  "Thank you, but what I need now is my husband.  If he's even on the island still.  I wouldn't blame him if he'd left."  Her eyes started leaking tears which she angrily swiped at.  "I can't even follow him this time."

   Kendra nodded.  "Aye, ma'am.  You hold yourself together and I'll go track down that husband of yours."  She stood up straight.  "Even if I have to go France and back to do it."

   Winn almost protested, suddenly scared that seeing Jack might not be the best thing after all, but Kendra was already gone from the room.  _I'm so sorry, she thought.  __I need you, Jack.  Left with no other choice, she sat down in a chair to wait._

Kendra rushed downstairs, and spotted Alex standing with a group of acquaintances.  "Smuggler!  I need your assistance!"   Kendra had gone into captain mode and snapped it out like an order.

   Alex looked at what he still believed to be a small cabin boy.  He was amazed by the lad's audacity . . . but then again, when you were that short, one needed a certain boldness to get by, he supposed.  "And just what could be so important that you need me?"

   "I need your horse.  Sparrow got chased off by Winn, and now I'm to track him down. If you don't take me, I'll take Lucy myself."  Kendra watched as the man she was addressing tried to contain laughter.  She didn't understand what was causing it though.  True, this was a pirate funeral and half the guests were drunk, but she could see nothing funny about the woman upstairs and the man too stubborn to come back to a good thing.  "Do not mock me, smuggler!" Kendra snapped and drew her cutlass, holding it to Alex's neck.  "You will either take me to your horse or I will take it myself.  Which would you prefer?"

   Alex simply smiled again as he came over and shoved Kendra towards the door with a hand on her shoulder.  "For your information, sprout, I wasn't laughing at you.  I was laughing because once again I'm helping Freddy with her equally stubborn husband." 

   Kendra nodded stiffly, unhappy to find herself propelled forward by this man so easily, but also made curious by his comment.  Instead of asking for more information though, she simply said, "Don't call me sprout."

Jack was sitting in a corner of one of the local taprooms.  He had a mug of rum in front of him, but he hadn't touched it yet.  This was one time where falling asleep for extended periods of time wouldn't affect the situation that'd sent him here to tend his wounds.

   His wife . . . the woman he'd given up his bachelorhood for, the woman who was pregnant with _his child . . . had shot a pistol at him.  _And_ threatened to do it again.  __And told him to leave.  So why was he still here?  Why hadn't he found passage to Wright Isle and taken command there?  By the time his ship was whole, perhaps Winnie would have calmed down enough to speak to him._

   He knew the reason he hadn't left.

   It was that he would miss everything.  He'd miss watching Winn grow round with his child.  He'd miss supporting her as she gave birth.  He'd miss seeing her hold their child for the first time.  He'd even miss not knowing what'd she say next since her emotions were in a uproar.

   _So what am I going to do?  Go to the house every day and wait for her to shoot me?  I understand why she's upset.  I wasn't there to hold her when she lost her grandfather, but why doesn't she understand that I was eliminating a greater threat to the three of us? _ Jack looked up from his drink as a shadow fell over his table.

   "How's the rum?" Kendra asked, sitting in the chair across from him.  Kendra waited for him to reply, but felt herself pity the pirate sitting across from her.  He looked exhausted . . . he _had been through his fair share of trouble recently.  And there was just a sense of . . . pain and suffering hanging around him.  _He's miserable.  Guess casual conversation won't work.  Might as well cut to the chase._  Clearing her throat, Kendra pushed the rum to the side and leaned on the table, meeting Sparrow's gaze.  "We're going back."_

   "You're welcome to go back, _Pierre, but the last I heard, Winn had washed her hands of me."_

   She growled and leaned closer.  "Not what she told me.  And if I have to knock ye over the head and drag you back, I will."

   "What'd'ye mean, that's not what she told you?  Why would she confide in a cabin boy?"

    Kendra rolled her eyes and sat back.  "My secret's out.  To her at least.  She figured out that I'm a skirt, somehow.  She was a bit more amiable to one of her own sex."  Jack raised his head in acknowledgement, but didn't rise from his seat.  Kendra sighed in frustration.  "We're going, Sparrow.  I will make good on my offer previous."

   "You're too short to frog march anything but an ant, munchkin."

   Kendra grinned, "Yes, but I brought backup."  She nodded her head towards Alex, who was standing by the far wall.

   "Bloody busybody."

****************************************************************

**I hate to say it, but I am just too tired to do individual reviews tonight.  It's getting close to ****midnight****, I've been skimping on sleep, and I still have some homework to finish.  But know that I did read each and every review, that I loved them all, took all comments and suggestions to heart, and I'll get to personal replies next chapter.  Promise.**

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**Alli**** – ugh.  Bad grammar – written bad grammar – is one of my biggest pet peeves.  _Hate_ it.  And Norrington . . . I was really rather neutral on him until I saw the deleted scenes – and then I became a supporter of him.  Because you've found yourself trapped by an ice storm, you can rock my really heavy wool socks that I'm thinking about putting on because my window is open and my feet are cold.  ^_^**

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**Piper8188**** – thank you so much for the nice complements.  I know I could point out several fics that I think are better than mine, but I won't.  ^_^  I really am running out of things to rock, but you can rock the atlas that's come in so handy during this story.**


	32. Healing

**Author's Note:** I hate to tell you this, but I'm running out of material for this fic.  I'm thinking I've only another four chapters until I'm done.  Rest assured, I have more projects in my head than I can tell you, and those will be available to you some week or two after this is done.  I'll give you more details once I'm sure of what they are.  For the moment, sit back and enjoy this segment.

**Disclaimer:** no one from PotC is mine, and Kendra belongs to bobo3.

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The door to Winn's room inched open, as if the person behind the door was hesitant to disturb her.  They needn't have worried – as the hours had passed without any sign of her husband or her messenger, she'd given up, falling into a despondent sleep.

   That was how Jack found her, curled up in an armchair, arms hugging a pillow, head turned into the back of the chair.  Even now, she was beautiful, swollen eyes and swollen belly included.  Her chair was turned so she could look out at the bay; the light of the setting sun washed over her, making her skin turn golden and her hair a deep, rich brown.

   He sighed and shook his head, removing coat, hat, belts, and boots.  Years ago, pegs had been set into the wall by the door to hold his belongings, and with the ease of long practice, he settled everything without waking his sleeping wife – not that waking her was an easy thing to do.

   Before approaching her, Jack looked around the room for Pige.  As much as he appreciated the mutt for looking after Winn, he didn't want the dog in the room, not tonight.  He didn't want to have to share her with anyone, not even the canine.  "Pige," he called.  The dog appeared from the other side of the bed, walking over with measured steps and a slow wag of her tail, eventually coming up to butt her head against Jack's hip, looking up at him with soulful eyes.  "Nope, outside you go."  Jack opened the door to the room and the dog reluctantly left, pausing just over the threshold.  He knew she'd end up sleeping right in front of the doorway, but that didn't bother him.  Perhaps others would take that as a sign that the room's occupants didn't want to be bothered.

   Jack approached his sleeping wife even more cautiously than he'd come into the room.  He wouldn't leave if she were still upset with him, but he didn't think it was necessarily safe to wrestle her to the bed and pin her there until she ran out of energy either.  Crouching down, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and gently removed the pillow she was holding.  She shifted in her sleep, murmuring something under her breath.  Jack smiled.  "Wake up, Winnie."  She shook her head.  "Yes, love.  We need to talk."  She turned her head until her face was entirely hidden by the back of the chair.  "Stubborn vixen."

   Winn heard someone talking to her.  Why did people always insist on waking her up?  "Go 'way."

   "You're talking in your sleep, love."

   "No I'm not."  She yawned.  "You woke me up."  She sighed deeply and opened her eyes; all that met them was the fabric of the chair.  _Nothing important._  Her eyes fell closed again.  _I'm so tired.  Despite doing her best to fall back asleep, Winn stayed awake, drifting in a half-conscious haze.  The only thing that kept her from returning to her refuge was the feel of a hand on hers.  A large, warm, rough, calloused hand.  She knew that hand.  Suddenly wide awake, Winn turned her head to meet the gentle eyes of her husband._

   Jack was caught off-guard when Winn threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.  He felt her start trembling as soft kisses were pressed into his neck.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

   "Winnie – "

   "No.  I shouldn't have behaved like that.  I didn't want you to leave.  I wanted you here . . . but I was just so _angry, and I don't know why.  I was so afraid that you'd left already, and that you were mad at me, and that I'd finally managed to drive you away for good . . ."  Jack felt tears start seeping through his shirt._

   With a sigh, he starting rubbing a hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her.  "It takes more than a gunshot to drive me away, love."

    "But I was so _horrible."  She squeezed her arms around him, almost as if she were still afraid that he would leave.  "I was mad at you for not being here, and then when you arrived, I told you to leave again."_

   "Winnie, since when I have I ever listened to what you've told me to do?"  One of her hands balled into a fist and thumped him on the shoulder – not hard enough to hurt – just hard enough to let him know she didn't appreciate the comment.  "Did you really think I'd abandon you while you're still carryin' my child?"

   Her breath gusted over his neck.  "I don't know what I was thinking."  Winn finally pulled away to look into his face.  "I was hoping that even if you did leave, that you'd eventually come back for this."  She opened her hand to reveal the small medallion laying on her palm.  

   Jack took it, his grin fading as he saw the healing cut on her palm.  He traced it with a gentle finger, studying it before meeting her eyes again.  "Where'd you get this?"

   Winn shrugged.  "I was holding on to your bauble after Marcus had told me you were dead.  I guess I was holding onto it too tightly, because it cut me."

   It was moment or two before Jack said anything, and when he did, it wasn't what she'd been expecting.  "Gandolfi is dead, Winn."

   Winn was puzzled.  Jack didn't sound pleased with this announcement.  "I thought that's what you wanted."

   He shook his head, looking at the small hand cradled in both of his and settled in Winn's lap.  "I went after him because it had to be done, but I never found pleasure in the thought of killing him.  He was a man driven mad by grief, and should I ever find myself confronted by someone who had killed someone I loved – whether by accident or design – I can't say that I wouldn't act the same way.  When he set us adrift, I almost understood him, Winnie.  I understood the burden of loss that could drive someone to act as he did, and if you had died, or if you had lost the babe. . . ."

   "You would _never act like that, Jack Sparrow, so stop thinking that way."  Winn's voice was fiercely protective.  "I don't care __what you think, but I know __you."  She laid a  hand over his heart as if shielding it from his own thoughts.  "I know that you don't have the heart for torturing someone like Gandolfi tried to torture me.  You're a _good man_.  Whatever else can be said about you, whatever charges of piracy and lawlessness can be brought against you, you _aren't_ cruel and you __don't shed blood needlessly.  If you did, I wouldn't be able to love you."_

   "I killed Barbossa.  Gandolfi is dead."

   _Gandolfi is **dead?  "But you didn't kill him, did you?"  Jack looked up, surprised.  "You admitted to killing Barbossa, but you said Gandolfi was _dead._  Not that you killed him as well."**_

   Jack shrugged.  "He fell from the second floor.  His neck broke.  But if I had had the chance, I would have killed him."

   "But would you have drawn it out?  Would you have let death linger for days?  Would you have watched and delighted in his pain?"  She shook her head.  "I know the answer to that.  The answer to all three questions is no.  His death would have been swift and clean."

   "Winn –"

   "The fact that you're telling me all this should prove that I'm right.  You didn't kill the man with your own hand, and yet you're . . . you're . . . ."

   "Confessing?"

   Winn shrugged.  "If that's what you want to call it.  I can guarantee that Gandolfi didn't do the same thing after poisoning me."  Some of the bleakness in Jack's eyes broke up.  Winn felt her body relax, and she rested her head on Jack's shoulder. 

   As he held his wife, Jack decided that Winn was going to make a wonderful mother.  Her capacity for soothing fears and loving was so large.  She protected those she cared about with the same fierceness and determination she displayed when they sparred.  If only she would believe that, she'd never have to fear that he'd leave her again.  How could he leave someone who was a companion, a supporter, a lover, and a thorn in his side all rolled into one?  Someone who was strong for others but who had a delicate, unsure maiden tucked behind the warrior?  Someone who had a gentle heart tucked behind the sharp tongue?  Someone who wasn't afraid to continually disagree with him but who never wanted to leave his side?

   Winn yawned, her body still tired and complaining that her nap had been interrupted.  Without a word, Jack picked her up and carried her over to the bed, settling down beside her.  Within moments she was asleep and he was following her.

The next morning, Jack woke up to find his wife already awake and staring into his face intently.  Her eyes were serious, her expression unsure.  Was she still afraid that he might leave?  That he was upset with her?  He couldn't imagine why she would think that after last night, but he was more than willing to reassure her.  He rested a gentle hand on her face, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.  "What's on your mind, love?"

   "Jack, I have something I need to tell you."

   He was silent, waiting for Winn to speak.  She didn't.  "You can tell me what's bothering you.  That's what I'm here for."

   Winn reached up and removed his hand from her face.  She enfolded it in her small ones, and asked, "Do you promise you won't get angry?"

   "Winnie, unless you're plannin' on telling me that the babe really _does belong to another man, I can promise that I won't get upset."_

   "Jack . . ." her mouth trembled as she tried to tell Jack what was on her heart.  She'd woken some time after midnight, and had spent the rest of the hours until morning thinking about her husband and the children she'd lost and the fears she'd been harboring about her pregnancy.  She couldn't keep them inside anymore, and she couldn't share them with anyone but Jack.  Others would understand, and reassure, and perhaps empathize, but Jack was the only one who could help her leave it all behind.  He'd helped her heal before; she could only hope that he'd help her now.  "Jack . . . this isn't . . . this isn't my first pregnancy."

   Jack felt bewilderment spread over him.  What did she mean?  He could be oblivious to certain things, but he thought he would have noticed his wife swelling up like a canvas at full sail, and he knew for a fact that Winn had been untouched their first night together.  "What are you talking about, Winnie?"

   This was _hard.  What if he turned away from her?  What if he was disappointed in her for not realizing she was pregnant and for not realizing when she lost the children?  But he had to know – they were his children too.  "I . . . I, umm," her voice was barely above a whisper.  Jack had to strain to hear it.  "I've been pregnant three other times, Jack.  They were all miscarriages."_

   _Winnie.  How long had she been carrying this alone?  It hurt that she didn't trust him enough to tell him.  Why did she insist on being so _strong_ all the time?  He was here to support her.  Why couldn't she see that?  Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, although he kept his grip on his wife's hand.  "Why didn't you tell me this long ago, Winn?"  He shifted uncomfortably as he realized this was perhaps a bad position to be laying in._

   When she heard the tone of disappointment in Jack's voice, Winn nearly crumpled right there.  She'd been right.  He believed she'd let him down.  And even though she knew he was right, she couldn't stop.  "Umm . . . that's the worst part.  I . . . I didn't realize . . . until . . . until . . . ."  She couldn't do this after all.  Winn released Jack's hand and tried to roll out of the bed.  She made it as far as her knees before he stopped her.

   "What do you mean, Winnie?"  His hand caught hold of her sleeve, keeping her from standing up, but not forcing her to look at him.  "When did you realize?"

   "Right after you dropped me off here.  When you went to Nassau."  Winn swiped the tears from her face.  "I realize I'm a horrible mother to not even realize when . . . when I've failed to keep my own child alive . . . but you needed to know.  Even if you hate me –"  She stopped talking as Jack pulled her back down and into a tight hug.  For a moment she resisted, hurt and afraid that he was patronizing her, but eventually gave in.  A pained whimper escaped her throat and then the tears and the sobs came with frightening intensity.  Until this moment, she'd been too preoccupied with life to grieve for what she'd lost.  Now, as Jack held her tightly, she allowed it all to come out.  All the guilt, the grief, the anger . . . she unloaded it on Jack's shoulder as he rubbed her back and whispered nonsense words into her ear.

   It was an hour or more before she calmed.  True exhaustion weighed on her, replacing the ball of confining emotions that'd been riding her since the moment she'd seen her own face on a wanted poster.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.

   "Shh, love.  None of it's your fault.  Not Gandolfi, not the castor bean, not my hurts, and most definitely not the miscarriages."

   "But –"

   "No."  The denial was firm and the authority rang in Winn's ears.  "We both know you would have done anything you could have done to keep those babes."

   "But I should have realized –"

   "Why?  The 'experts' had already declared you barren.  If you lost them before you were big enough to show, how could you be expected to know?  Grieve our children, but don't blame yourself, Winnie.  I don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself either."  Winn didn't respond.  "Are you listening to me, Winnie?"

   "Yes."  She squeezed him around the neck.  "It's just . . . I've other things on my mind too."

   "Tell me."

   "What if . . . what if the babe is fine, but I . . . ?"  How was she supposed to say this?  "My mother nearly died giving birth to my twin and I.  My twin didn't make it, and Momma was confined to her bed for nearly a month afterwards.  And she . . . she had a better figure for such things than I do.  Her hips were wider and she was bigger.  What if. . . ?" 

   Jack felt Winn's body tremble just as his mind recoiled at the thought of losing her.  "Shh, you're going to be fine, love.  Don't even think like that.  You and the babe will both be fine."

   "But what if I'm not?  Women die in childbirth, Jack."

   Jack was beginning to understand why she'd been so adamant that he be with her.  _So much fear in such a little body._  Releasing her, Jack rolled away to look her in the face.  "I – _we_ – did not just go through all this just to be separated now.  After all we've been through in the past months, are you telling me that a little think like childbirth might part us?"  Knowing the reaction he'd get, he said, "Winifred Sparrow –"

   "Morgan-Sparrow."  Winn gave Jack the smallest of smiles, and he felt his heart lift a little.  "I'm Winn Morgan-Sparrow."

   "And?"

   "And I'm the granddaughter of Henry Morgan and wife of Jack Sparrow, pirate extraordinaire."

   "And?"

   "And I'm too stubborn to give into a little thing like death."

   Jack smiled and hugged Winn to him again.  "There's my wife.  I was beginning to think I had a subordinate instead of a consort."

   "The day I let you order me around without protest is the day I take another shot at you, Jack Sparrow," she whispered.

   "But can you live with being a consort?" he whispered back.  "Can you start being a bit more free with your thoughts and fears and feelings?  Not that I don't enjoy the challenge," he assured her, "it's just that with a babe on the way, we'll be facing a whole new set of challenges.  I'd prefer to meet this child with a united front, or it'll be running us ragged within a week."

   Winn laughed quietly, but gave thought to what Jack was asking her.  It would be a challenge to freely and willingly hand over her fears and feelings, but he was right.  In four years of marriage, hadn't he more than earned the right to see into her head?  Into her heart?  "I think so, but . . . I'll need help."

   "That's what I'm here for, love."

   "Promise?"

   "Yes."

   Winn took his promise and pressed it into her head and her heart until she'd remember it.  A pledge freely given and accepted without restraint.  "Jack?  I miss Grandfather."

   "I know, love."

   "I'm glad you're back, even if it was later than I wanted."

   "I'm sorry about that, Winnie.  I know how much he meant to you."

   "He did mean a lot.  But you mean more."  She kissed Jack's neck.  "I love you, Jack."

   "I know, Winnie."

   Having said all that mattered at the moment, Winn felt herself drifting into sleep, held securely in her husband's loving and understanding arms.  "I'm glad you're back," she breathed.

   He kissed her forehead.  "As am I."  As he watched Winn's face relax, he thought, _As__ am I._

A week quickly passed.  Winn's attitude settled to some degree as her husband was there to dampen her temper and soften her tongue.  In private, Winn couldn't believe just how irritable she was and Jack sincerely hoped that should she ever get pregnant again, that her mood would improve.  But despite his appearance of a patient martyr, Jack enjoyed the opportunity to spend entire days with his wife, baiting her and giving her a target for her irritation that would give as good as it got.  Most of their exchanges ended with Jack kissing Winn on the nose or the cheek or occasionally on the mouth, which always made her stay quiet for an hour or two until the constant buzz of emotions built up again.

   Jack understood this in part.  First of all, Winn was pregnant, and pregnant women were always somewhat irrational, not that he'd ever point that out.  Secondly, she was confined to the house and a minimum of movement.  And thirdly, Winn was doing her best to stick close to him, practically hanging on him every moment of the day, like a child who'd been lost and found by its parents.  She was so relieved to have him back and so aware of how close they'd come to being parted that she was reluctant to let him out of her sight . . . and this irritated her.  The visible evidence of her dependence on her husband irritated her, but she wasn't willing to stop either.  So Jack put up with her sharp comments and willingly gave up the use of one hand, allowing her to cling to it and find comfort in his touch.  It was an odd relationship, but one that Jack accepted.  Nothing with Winn was ever easy, but he enjoyed the struggle and the challenge because he knew that Winn needed him . . . and that in a few months she'd be over this.

   One morning, about a week after his arrival, Jack snuck out of their room and closed the door quietly behind him, only to turn around and find himself about to walk right into a miniature, smirking pirate.  He jerked back in surprise.  Young children were one thing.  Former members of his crew were another thing altogether.  _How did she get there?_

   "Skittering off, are we?"

   "Pierre!" Jack grinned, regaining his equilibrium and sidestepping to get past her. 

   She let him, turning and walking next to him.  "The name is Ken, Kendra, Captain and perhaps a few other things, but _you_ have no permission to call me '_Pierre_.'  And you know it."

   Jack set a hand on Kendra's head and ruffled her hair.  "Of course, poppet."

   Kendra shoved his hand off, sighing in irritation.  "What are you up to anyway?  Not going to cause a ruckus, are you?"

   He just grinned at her.

   "Of course you are."  She narrowed her eyes.  "Though, to the close observer of your behavior for the past few days, I would image that Winn is still asleep and you're going to do something husband-like, such as bringing her breakfast in bed."  He flinched and she grinned.  "I was right."

   "And your point being?"  Jack took the stairs two at a time so Kendra had to hurry to keep up with him.  "Winnie is six months gone with child – she's always hungry."

   "You've become soft in some aspects, Sparrow."

   At this, he jerked to a stop and looked to Kendra with a raised eyebrow. "Soft, hmm?"

   "Aye," she crossed her arms and scowled at him.  "At first glance, you only make those comments to Winn to get the pleasure of irritating her, but I suspect you do it to allow her the pleasure of yelling at you.  There's other things that you do – like going after Gandolfi, even when you knew she'd break you in two for leaving her alone – that make me think you've . . . changed.  Especially since you came back.  She's a good woman Sparrow.  A little, well . . . tetchy right at the moment.  But if I had a gut her size and all of this stress, I'm sure I would be too."

   Jack slowly absorbed Kendra's words.  But now was really not the time to ponder them at length, so he brushed them aside for later.  Instead, he put on a smirk.  "Being as small as you are, it would be a miracle that you could even move with a gut her size."  He was profoundly glad Winn was still asleep.

   In a flash, Kendra had her cutlass out and to his throat.  "Not so funny, Sparrow."

   For a tense moment, Kendra and Jack stood perfectly still.  Just as Jack began to wonder how many times he'd get a weapon drawn on him within the fortnight and if Kendra was being playful or actually angry, she pulled the cutlass back and chuckled.

   "You've lost your defenses, fool."  Sheathing her cutlass, she lightly punched his shoulder.  "If I didn't know –" she cut herself off as Jack flinched.  "You can't actually tell me that hurt.  I barely hit you.  Unless. . . ."  A strange, almost concerned expression came onto Kendra's face and she softened her tone.  "If I hurt you, I'm sorry."

   "Only a little," he teased and returned the thump to her shoulder.  Instead of glaring or snapping back, Kendra let her body sway back and forth with the punch and kept her gaze on the floor, looking almost passive. 

   "Thirty-five lashes . . . Sparrow . . . how did you survive that?  I've had five . . .  and . . . though I was only ten at the time . . ." she clenched her fists, grimacing.  "It was awful.  I can't comprehend that seven times over."

   Of all the things Winn had to go and share with his former cabin lad . . . lass.  "I passed out part way through.  And Commodore Norrington took me under his care."  It unnerved Jack to see Kendra so pliable, and he set a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in hopes that she'd snap out of it.  He never thought he'd be glad to have her be so disagreeable.  "It's in the past though.  Gandolfi's taken care of."

   Kendra nodded.  "I . . . I just can't imagine letting that slide by."  She looked up and realized that she was almost crying.  Wiping whatever had begun to leak onto her sleeve, she stuck out a hand.  "An accord.  To never speak of me gettin' so emotional."  Jack was about to try and make a bargain out of it, but before he could speak up she continued.  "I won't tell no one about your possible softenin', and you won't tell no one of mine."

   _Good enough.  _"Aye, agreed."

   The two pirates shook firmly, and then pulled their hands away, not quite sure what to do next.

   "What about that breakfast for Winn?  I'll help you.  I got in good with the cook."  She winked, "A few compliments work wonders."

   "Oh really?  You _would_ be the one to know how to twist people to your purposes," he muttered.

   Kendra shrugged and walked beside Sparrow down the rest of the stairs.  "It comes in handy.  'Sides, people always underestimate me.  Why not manipulate a little too?"

   Sparrow laughed at this, pleased by the sentiment spoken by another pirate.  He missed his crew.  He missed being the captain and commander of his own ship.  Not that he would leave Winn now – or any time soon if the report sent by Gibbs was accurate – but having another pirate around eased the restlessness that was fighting to settle over him.

   Occupied with these thoughts, the two made their way to the kitchen.  Despite Kendra's offer of assistance, there was no need.  No one was in the kitchen and Kendra retrieved items while Sparrow assembled them on a tray.

   "You know this is going to be on my list of dues, right?"  Kendra tossed him an apple. 

   Jack caught it and scoffed.  "List of dues, I'm sure."

   Kendra set her hands defiantly on her hips.  "Aye, my list of dues.  I got three copies made, just incase you decide to try and destroy the evidence.  And they wager all the way from the day I met you.  Well . . . that night actually, but you get the point.  Trust me, Sparrow," she grinned and played absently with her cutlass hilt, "you have lots of making up to do."

   He rolled his eyes.  "I got you back the _Dilettante_, what else does it matter?"

   It was Kendra's turn to scoff.  "Oh, yeah?  You just dropped me off in a long boat with Fluff.  The commodore picks us up, pays you the ransom and takes us to Port Royal.  There's the _Dilettante_.  As far as I can tell, you weren't really of much assistance.  Lucky timing is all."

   "But without me you would never have gotten there."

   She raised an eyebrow.  "Oh?  If you hadn't stopped me I would've been on Spriggit's crew."

   "And caught with the rest of them."

   No retort came to mind and Kendra growled.  "Fine.  But you still did me little good.  You're lucky is all.  And that reminds me. . . ." she stormed over and punched him hard in the jaw. 

   Jack stumbled back a step, rubbing the quickly reddening skin.  _She calls **this** lucky?  Bein' beat on by two women half my size day in and day out?  Not that Winnie is really tryin' to hurt me.  _"What was that for?  Part of your _dues_?  I never hit you."

   "Aye, you didn't hit me.  But you saw me naked."  Her eyes narrowed dangerously.  "And you should know that is a terrible offense.  Plus that whole ordeal with trying to get a kiss out of me.  What kind of man does that?  Pirate or not!  A poor lass just woken up after nearly downin' – "

   "I didn't know you were a lass!  Come on now, poppet –"

   She swung at him again, but he stepped back, catching her fist.  "Don't call me poppet, Sparrow!  And I know you had suspicions.  I was leading you on all the while.  The more kindly thing to do would have been to have Anamaria undress me.  And you know it."  Jerking her wrist still imprisoned in his, she glowered.  "I hope your jaw still stings."

   "Well, you're not exactly a weakling," Sparrow mumbled, rubbing his jaw with his free hand.

   Kendra grinned and pulled her hand free, starting over towards the apples again.  "Good."

   The two pirates finished throwing together a meal for Winn, then went back upstairs in companionable silence.  Upon reaching their room, Jack pointed his head down the hall towards Kendra's room.  "Scat, lass.  Winn in the morning isn't even something I'd want to inflict upon you."

   Kendra smirked.  "Scared of your wife, Sparrow?"

   Jack's eyes narrowed.  "With good reason.  She's not exactly a morning person.."

   "Still, she _is still under my charge until you say otherwise, and I think I'd like to check in on her."  Kendra pushed past Jack and opened the door to the room.  Jack peered in after her, and saw that Winn was already up and dressed, although she wasn't wearing anything she'd like to be seen in in public.  She had a kerchief over her hair, and was busily painting away in front of the window.  Kendra just turned to Jack and raised an eyebrow as if to say, _Not___ a morning person, eh?  "Mornin' Winn."_

   When his wife didn't reply or even look up from her canvas, Jack smirked.  She wouldn't be up to talking to people for another half hour or so.  With the ease of long practice, he set the tray of food within her reach and leaned over to kiss her.  She accepted the kiss absently, although it was plain that most of her attention was focused on the portrait she was painting.  Jack watched as she completed the background with bold strokes.  The foreground was colorless, save for several figures that'd been drawn in beforehand.  "Did Lizzy finally talked you into painting a family portrait for her?"  Winn nodded.  Jack looked at the light pencil lines – sure enough, it was Liz and Will, both with a child in their arms.  "How hard did she have to talk to get you to do this?"

   "Not very.  I was dying for distraction."  Kendra had come over as well to look over Winn's shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to see.  She was intently staring at the canvas as Winn worked, amazement written on her face.  Jack decided to pay the smaller pirate back for intruding on his time with his wife.

   "You know, love, if you wanted to be distracted, I know of several activities that would be entertainin' for the both of us."

   "Those 'entertainments' are what led to this in the first place, Sparrow."  Kendra's face flamed.  "I don't think that'll be happening for some time to come.  Both Cat and Grace have given stern orders against spending too much time in bed."

   Jack was having a hard time containing his laughter.  It was obvious that Winn was still unaware of Kendra's presence in the room.  He was about to mention this when a knock came on the still open door.  Jack looked up to find Cat in the doorway with Elizabeth.  "Somethin' I can help you with, ladies?"

   "Not unless you want to go shopping."  Elizabeth and Cat started laughing as both Jack and Winn showed identical signs of distress at this comment.

   "I thought I was supposed to be taking things easy," Winn commented.

   Cat shrewdly pointed out, "You've been fighting that rule tooth and nail, Freddy.  And I don't think an hour or two of moving around is going to hurt you.  Make you tired?  Yes, probably, but no harm will come to you."

   "Why do I need to go shopping?  I have clothes."

   Elizabeth sighed in exasperation, a governor's daughter through and through.  "Winn, none of your clothes fit anymore.  You're wearing hand-me-downs that are too long for you."

   "Why do I need clothes that look nice?  It's not like I'm allowed to go anywhere."

   The two women looked at each other for a moment, then looked at Jack.  "Jack, will you excuse us for a moment?"

   Jack didn't exactly trust their reason for asking him to leave, but he did.  They closed the door behind him.  Glancing around, he saw that no one was in the hall, so he pressed his ear to the door – nothing.  Nothing but murmurs too quiet for him to make any sense of.  He sighed in disgust.

   A minute or so later, the door opened again as Cat and Elizabeth left the room.  "Be ready to go after lunch, Winn."  They nodded to Jack, sly smiles on their faces, then went downstairs, presumably to look after their children.  Jack watched them go, then went back into his bedroom.  Both Winn and Kendra both looked disgusted . . . well, Kendra looked disgusted.  Winn looked bemused.  Silently, she ran her eyes over her husband, her head tilted to one side in consideration.  "What?" he asked with some alarm.  If Cat had suggested he needed 'a trim,' he was going to have to have a serious talk with that woman.

   Winn shook her head.  "I think Cat was right.  You need to shave, or trim that beard.  It's getting rather . . . unruly."

   As long as she hadn't mentioned the hair . . .  "Oh, I don't know about that," Jack said as he rubbed his chin.  "By the time the babe is here, it might actually be long enough for me to braid it again."  Winn just _looked_ at him.  "What?  It's been years since I've had a long beard.  It might be nice.  It's not as if I have anything better to do for the next few months."

   Winn's face softened.  Her imposed inactivity was wearing on Jack as much as it wore on her.  _And she'd been demanding every moment of his attention.  She'd have to find something to do about that.  But he was wrong about the beard.  "Jack, what do you think will happen the moment our child is old enough to reach and grab things?"  She stared pointedly at his long hair.  "You'll provide enough temptation with those beads without giving reason for our nestling to pull on something so tender as a beard."  Jack winced.  "You know I'm right."_

   Jack shrugged, and came over to enfold Winn in his arms.  "Nestling?"

   Winn leaned into him briefly.  "It seemed appropriate."  Pulling away, she shoved him gently towards the wash room.  "Go take care of that beard, or Cat will fetch her scissors."

   Jack went, glancing at the still frowning Kendra as he passed.  "What's wrong with her?"

   Winn smiled, but it was Kendra who replied.  "I got enlisted to join their little 'expedition.'"

   Jack laughed.

Kendra walked a short distance behind Winn and all three of her sister-in-laws, keeping only a small amount of her attention on her charge, leaving the majority for surveying the surroundings and watching for unsavory figures. 

_   At least only Winn has figured out my secret, so far.  Much like men to not catch onto my little slip-ups.  _She paused as the thought struck her as unfamiliar.  _Funny . . . months ago I wouldn't be so accusatory of men, but after spending time with Winn . . . the idea of being a woman really isn't all that negative.  Strange indeed.  Now what's with that pirate over there?_  Kendra focused a little more of her attention on a slightly inebriated middle-aged man weaving his way down the street.  She listened to his babble for a short time, then lessened her attention.  _Nothing more than a drunk, or a very good actor.  Doubtful of the latter, but if I pay him too much mind he'll catch onto me. _

   After accompanying the women into one of the stores, Kendra started to wait outside as they finished their shopping.  Sorting through patterns, and colors, and fabrics held no interest for her.  The whole ordeal disgusted her, really, and didn't seem to please Winn too much either, although the other woman did join in some of the discussion.  _I **did **wonder why a smart woman like Winn would dress in skirts when breeches are more practical.  It never occurred to me that she didn't have any that fit.  However, I wouldn't be caught dead in half of what they're looking at, nonetheless would I ever pay that much for **clothing** . . .  Holding back a shudder Kendra stood and followed Morgan women, who – despite having most of their purchases sent straight to the house – had their arms filled to the brim with bags and packages.  Except for Winn, who wasn't allowed to carry more than a parcel that contained some art supplies.  Kendra kept a close pace behind them, but they soon gave up trying to have her join the conversation. _

   The women ahead of her continued to chatter on about things that mattered naught to Kendra and she drowned out most of their conversation, refocusing her concentration on keeping up her act and being observant of her surroundings.  As she followed the group of Morgan women a voice was calling out to her and she paused. 

   "Ken!  Is that you?  It can't be our lil' Ken, could it?" 

   She rapidly searched the crowd and spotted the man calling her name.  _It can't be . . . Jim?  Is it really him?_

   He was a transformed man, more than ten years older than the last time she had seen him and now he seemed to have put on some weight, and was looking not quite so robust.  But a decade of time had not been overly harsh to the pirate.  "I see you there, me lass.  Not forgot 'bout ol' Jim, now did ye?"

   Kendra knew it would be intolerably cruel to ignore her old friend.  _The secret would come out eventually . . . why not now?_  She let out a laugh and trusted in the area being clear for a time.  "O' course not, Jim!  It's been an awful long time, 'asn't it?"  Her accent immediately slipped into the patterns she'd used as a child, when this man had known her.

   The Morgan women had not failed to hear this and stopped to watch a much different Kendra.  While there had always been a sort of mask to her, now it had dropped or at least faded.  Her entire appearance had lightened. 

   Two old pirate compatriots crossed the distance between them and Kendra embraced the man, chuckling as he tousled her hair.  "Ye 'aven't gotten much taller, lass.  Still a lil' stick, aren't ye?"

   "Aye, but ye _'ave_ changed, 'aven't ye Jim?"

   The older man rumbled with laughter and pushed Kendra away from him, examining her again.  "That ship o' yers doin' well?"

   Kendra scoffed. "Ye think I'd allow anything less? Come on, this is me we're discussin'!"

   Jim smiled and set his hand on her head.  "O' course, lass."  His expression softened.  "Seein' ye brings a bit o' hope to me day.  Been a long time since I seen such a friendly face."

   "That's a shame, Jim.  I'm the first friendly face ye seen for some time?  This world is headin' to shambles then.  But I'm glad to lighten yer day."

   "I 'aven't e'er seen ye here 'fore, lil' Ken.  What brings ye to Osprey Point?"

   Kendra nodded her head towards the Morgans.  "Got me some side business.  Profitable enough.  Don't know 'ow long I'll be here, but did ye want to get something to drink tonight?  I'll pay if ye'd like . . ."

   "Nay, lass! What kind of a pirate would I be if I 'ad the lil' lass payin' for the shay?"

   She hid her dismay at his constant mention of her being a 'lil' lass' and nodded.  "I 'ear ye, Jim.  After dark then?  Which tavern would ye prefer?"

   "This one should do," he waved his hand at the tavern behind her.  "After dark then.  I'll let ye get back to yer business.  And best of luck to ye ladies," Jim doffed his hat to the Morgan women, grinning and tousling Kendra's hair once more, walking off in the opposite direction. 

   Kendra waved.  "See ya, Jim!"  Lowering her arm she examined the tavern.  _The Smuggler's Cove_, she scoffed.  _What a name for a tavern . . ._  Slowly, she turned her gaze to the Morgans, taking a breath and raising an eyebrow at their surprised expressions.  "What?  A pirate's not allowed to have old friends?"

   Winn smiled knowingly, but kept her mouth shut. The other women looked a bit more thoughtful. 

   "'Lil' Ken', is it?" Grace grinned.

   Kendra unconsciously fingered her cutlass.  "Aye, Jim was on the ship I grew up on."  She ran her hands over her hair and attempted to repair the damage Jim had done.  "Don't let me lil' reunion stop yer day.  Now hurry along will ye?  I have an appointment to make at dark and would much like to make it.  And if ye ladies don't speed things up we'll be out here til' then."  She scowled.  "Stop starin', will ye?"

   The women smirked to one another and continued on, their spirited conversation kept much quieter this time around.  Kendra was tempted to listen in, but gave up on the idea, finding it more in her interest to simply do her job.  _There went that secret . . . soon enough every Morgan on this bleedin' island will know . . . and then there will be no point to keeping up the façade.  At least it was to Jim, and not some fault of my own.  The things I deal with . . . .  _Kendra let out a sigh and trudged along, finding the desire to get in a good old fashioned brawl quite tempting. 

"Uncle Jack! Uncle Jack!" 

   Jack turned from his conversation with Will and Ry to find quite a group of suspiciously adoring nephews behind him.  "Aye?"

   Avery and Michael – the two oldest boys – looked at each other, plainly deciding which of them would speak up.  Will looked on in amusement as Jack tried to act intimidating.  He'd had a hard enough time seeing the man as a husband, much less a doting uncle, but Winn's attitude towards her brothers' children had rubbed off on the pirate.

   It was Avery who finally spoke up, since he was seven months older than Michael.  "We want to build a boat, uncle Jack."

   Jack had a bad feeling about this.  With all the women out of the house, the men were left with the children.  Normally, Jack didn't mind this too much.  Either there were too few children any to get into serious trouble or there were so many that they managed to keep each other occupied _and_ policed.  And the women always seemed to know when someone was going to attempt something they oughtn't.  But this had the feel of a set-up.  "Why're you askin' me instead of your father?" Jack asked with a nod to Ry.  "He knows just as much about such things as I do."

   "Yes, but Papa is leaving in a few days to talk to some of his crews."  Several of the younger boys looked uncomfortable, letting Jack know that these 'crews' had been under the care of Morgan, and that they'd passed to Ry with the old pirate's death.  "Anyway, Momma said you'd be glad to help us."

   Jack wondered if it had been Cat's idea or Winn's.  His wife was observant and he knew he'd been restless lately.  It was possible she'd suggested this little venture to not only keep he boys occupied for awhile, but Jack as well.  And Cat would have been pleased to find something to keep the older boys busy.  Avery and Michael in particular were reaching the age when they'd be harder to keep under control and would be outgrowing their younger cousins.  And with the death of their great-grandfather, he bet Cat, and Sarah, and Grace all thought it'd be good for them to find something else to occupy their minds.

   But if Ry was leaving, and with Marcus leaving the week after that . . . Jack was going to be severely outnumbered.  Richard would help with what he could, but the man was a farmer at heart, not a craftsman . . . and Will. . . .  _What about Will?  _

   Jack looked at the blacksmith for support, his eyebrows raised.  Will shrugged.  "I've never tried carpentry, Jack."

   "But you'll be around?"  The thought of being the only man amongst the masses of children was something Jack didn't even want to consider.

   "I think I'd have a difficult time prying Elizabeth away until after she's assured herself that her best friend as well as her child are healthy."  He sighed, bouncing his daughter as she started to fuss.  "The Morgans have offered me the use of their forge, so I can get some progress done on my orders while we wait."

   Jack thanked whichever god was keeping an eye on him.  "That's just as well – we're going to need nails and fittings and such if we're going to do this."  The boys cheered.  "But –" Jack had to raise his voice to be heard, "but this will be done in as orderly a fashion as possible.  You'll all work, but you'll all listen to me as well.  Once the vessel is complete, you can take turns playing captain, but until then, _I'm the captain, and you'll listen."_

   "Thank you, uncle Jack."  The group surged forward and drug him off to start drawing plans.

   _The things I do for you, Winnie._

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**Author's Thanks:**

**Clover the Sea-Beast – **No, I can see a musical version of PotC, and if they've got Johnny there singing for Jack, I think I would die a very happy girl.  : P

**jackfan2**** -  mmm . . . that was one of my better moments, wasn't it.  Seriously, I wrote that scene where she pulls the gun on him months ago and was dying to use it.  I really did enjoy that.**

**Kontara**** – do I know you?  (j/k)  I read Sara's reviews, and I saw that you'd changed your screen name.  Nope, you were right.  Just have to get through the babe being born, and a few other twists that I may or may not have up my sleeves.  : )**

**BlueTrinity**** – yes, Gandolfi is dead.  The strange sensation that all might not be well was just Jack being very in-tune with his wife and the fact that Gandolfi's death was so anticlimactic.  Sorry about the continued tears, but I'm wringing every drop of drama that I can out of this thing, and I'm having a blast doing it.  (So apparently, I'm not all that sorry after all.)**

**Dawnie****-7 –you weren't the only one with tears that chapter.  I made myself cry, and like I said, I've never done that before.  I really like Morgan, however, it was time for him to go.  *that sounded really nice*  ^_^**

**bobo3**** – ok, tonight, we at the very least, discuss.  I don't know if I have anything _to_ write at the moment.  I don't know.  I can tell this whole collaboration thing is going to be hard, because I am a slacker.  : P  Anyway, I will see you around, young missy.**

**Alli**** -  I try to update as often as I can.  I'm still bummed that this story isn't coming as fast as 'Inconvenient.'  That one was written in 49 days, or something, and this one has been going for something like, 113 days.  Somewhat embarrassed by that, but oh well.  Glad you're enjoying this.**

**VagrantCandy**** – thank you.**

**Lila Elensar – **yay!  Another reviewer I made cry.  Seriously, I don't know how I do it, but I'm semi-glad I do.  It lets me know that you're all enjoying this.

**Beak – **thank you ever so much.  I was unsure about how Morgan would die, but that seemed appropriate.  *author's are so strange, because they say things like that, and they mean it.*  Anyway, that was one of my favorite chapters, so I'm glad you liked it.

**lilitaliandragon** – **yeah, Winn can't believe she did that either.  As for Kendra and her identity and Alex?  You're just going to have to sit around and wait to see what bobo3 and I have cooked up.**

**BeBe**** – what got into her?  Jack's kid.  Not only is she pregnant, but she's got a temper to boot.  But she was sorry for it.  That, and I really liked the image of her pulling a gun on him.  Very feisty.  I'd been getting some complaints that Winn was becoming too weak, unlike her character in 'Inconvenient' and so I was glad to post that chapter, even though I wrote that scene in November or something.  And Jack's strange feeling was nothing more than some kind of 'empathy' with his wife, a suspicion  that that not all was well at home.  And a bit of a letdown that Gandolfi had died like that, even though he hadn't really been looking forward to killing him.**

**pendragginink** – **what can I say?  I'm a sucker for long reviews.  I love getting these and reading them.  They always make my day, and you always give me food for thought.  I wrote Gandolfi's death like that, simply because I couldn't figure out a way to make Jack kill in cold blood.  Watching PotC, viewing the scene where he shoots Barbossa several times over, it struck me that yes, he'd shot the man, but he had several reasons for doing so.  1) the man had led a mutiny against him ten years ago and stolen his livelihood and his ship.  2) Barbossa had a gun on Elizabeth and wouldn't have hesitated to pull the trigger.  Jack has some morals and actually cared about this, so he distracted Barbossa by shooting him.  But if you watch, the cold look in his eyes . . . melts . . . a little after firing the gun, as if he's in shock of what he's just done.  Now, you can argue why he'd feel like that, but I like to believe that it's because that deep inside, Jack truly does not like to kill.  He'll do it if he has to, but won't if it can be avoided.  Winn was 14 when her parents died.  You reviews have inspired equally long reviews m'dear.  Looking forward to the next one – they give me insight into my own characters, if that makes any sense.**

**Golden Rose3 – **I can't play guitar, and I can't speak a second language, and I can't read Tolkien without falling asleep.  So yes.  ^_^  Loved the gun scene myself.  Don't know how many times I can say that.  ; )  Yes, Gandolfi really is dead.  Read the first half of my reply to pendragginink to see why I went that route, I just don't have the energy to type that again.  ^_^

**KawaiiRyu**** – poor Winn.  She's having some difficulties.  Although, it was fun to make her shoot at Jack.  Yes, I acknowledge that I'm horrible.**

**Curiosity Inc. – **possibly, but I really loved that scene and had to use it.  Besides, Winn's never been the most rational of women when it's come to her temper.  The reason for the lack of comic relief in that chapter was simply that I didn't want any.  I wanted to keep the tension up.  I'm going to have an entire chapter of humorous stuff (the next one), but for this one I wanted the tension to last a bit longer.

**Piper8188**** – thank you.**

**Eledhwen**** – in my heart of hearts, I would have buried him at sea as well, I just couldn't manage it without making the chapter irrationally long.  There'd be logistics, and I try to keep things realistic, and so I took the 'slackers' way out.  Sorry.  Also, I think that Isabella Morgan was _not buried at sea, and that Morgan wanted to be buried by his wife.  I'll have to fix that little detail.  ^_^_**

**Erica Dawn – **oh, there's always more – it's just not always up when you want it to be.  Thanks for catching those little errors for me.

**pirate-miss**** – oh, she didn't have poor aim, she was just firing a shot off Jack's bows, a warning that she was serious.  And pregnant women can be irrational like that.  *well, perhaps not to that degree, but this is a fic.*  Thanks for the complements.**

**SuzzieQue**** – I'm sorry I made you cry.  Seriously – I swear it's not my intention, ever, but it does happen.  And yes – pregnant, lonely, Winn is a force to be reckoned with.**

**CrazyCanoeingGIT**** – thanks.**


	33. Partings

**Author's Note: it's almost 11 o'clock at night, I've got cramps and backaches like you wouldn't believe, I can't sit in this chair any longer, and I got four or five hours of sleep last night.  Not to mention a ****8 o'clock**** class tomorrow morning.  What am I saying?  No author's thanks this time around, and I'm sorry, and I love you all, and I promise to get to it next time around.  Thank you all.**

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After successfully persuading the Morgan women to get a carriage and leave her be, Kendra sighed to herself.  _And my past comes rushing back to me . . . good ol' Jim._  Breathing in deeply, she put a bit more spring in her step and made her way to _The Smuggler's Cove_.  Sighing at the name, she spotted Jim at a table and smiled as he waved her over.

   "'ey there, lass.  Good ta see ye after all this time.  What ye been up to?  What's this business with watchin' skirts?  Never thought ye'd have the patience for such nonsense."

   Kendra smiled and sat across from him. "Started as a favor for an ol' friend. Ta take care a' 'is wife while 'e was away.  Now I'm watchin' the 'ole family, it seems.  Not that it's too bad of a job.  Tolerable, indeed, for a land job.  And they feed and board me.  I got nothin' to really complain 'bout."

   "Which ol' friend is this?"

   She chuckled to herself.  "Sparrow of the _Pearl_.  Did ye 'ear 'bout that 'ole ordeal?"

   "Ye had a run-in with _Captain Sparrow_?  When was this?"  Jim stared in awe. 

   Leaning back in her chair, Kendra grinned.  "Let's get that rum first.  Then I'll tell ye of the 'ole ordeal with Sparrow . . . ."

Alex came downstairs and was surprised to see Ken sitting at a table with an older pirate.  _What's he doing here?  Taking a day off from watching Freddy?  It would make sense for her to chase the boy off . . . he was practically her shadow.  And with Jack settling back in, I suppose she wants some time alone with him.  _ Coming a little closer he began to hear snatches of their boisterous conversation.

   ".lil' Ken, ye still 'maze me.  Cap'n after so short a time.  And 'ow old are ye now? Twenty-six?"

_   Captain.  Was this the same Ken?  Or was this the explanation to the audacity that he had displayed?  If Ken had been hiding that . . . what else is he hiding?_  Alex seated himself just outside of sight and continued to listen closely.

   "_Almost_ twenty-six.  I've yet to get that old.  But that's not all, Jim!  Them skirts I been watchin', remember them?"  Jim nodded.  "Listen close, they's the wives and only granddaugha' of the late Captain Henry Morgan."  Kendra bowed her head and put her hat to her heart for a moment.  "May 'is soul rest in peace."

   Jim nodded and did the same.

   Jim nodded and did the same.  After a short pause, he cleared his throat.  "So, what's the latest news on the _Dilettante_?  For 'ow long ye been watcin' the skirts?  Surely ye can't stay 'way from the sea for too long.  I thought it was part of ye blood."

   "Aye, that be true.  Me crew was gettin' restless so I sent 'em off for some plunderin'.  Been getting reports of rich waters.  Finnan, me first mate, makes a good enough captain.  I think pretty soon I'll 'elp 'im buy 'is own ship.  Of course 'e'll 'ave to ask for it."

   Jim chuckled.  "Any romance for ye?  I know ye never had much luck . . ."

   Kendra sighed and slumped.  "Jim. . . .  Why is it that ye always bring that up?  Really, I'm fine.  Pirate cap'ns rarely get knotted anyways."

   Jim set his mug down and looked to Kendra sadly.  "I know what it's like to be alone though, Ken.  Surely ye could find at least one man willin' to at least take a gander at ye. . . ."

   "Knock it off!" Kendra snapped, standing and shaking.  "I know ye're tryin' to 'elp, but it's not gonna work that way!  I'm ne'er seen as meself, and if I 'ad to tell 'im what I was it'd be a shame.  I got a 'eart Jim.  I . . . I don't want to sell m'self out like a whore either."  She sat down and began to brood.  "I ne'er said I enjoyed bein' lonely, but I like me life like it is.  I get by just fine."

   Jim watched her for a moment, then nodded.  "Sorry Ken, didn't mean to set ye off like that."

   "I know," Kendra sighed, "just been keepin' up me façade again.  Starts to wear on me afta' a time." 

   Alex went back up the stairs with more than the small cabin boy's revealed identity on his mind.

Winn fidgeted in her seat as Cat did her hair.  She was wearing some of her new clothes - a maroon pantsuit with a white shirt - and now she was letting Cat finish handling her transformation while Elizabeth and her sister-in-laws sat around and talked.  For a moment she envied Kendra her freedom wander as she pleased, to meet up with old friends, to be free to act without anyone offering their opinion of what she was and wasn't strong enough to do.  But then her child rolled and Winn remembered how nice it was to be able to turn around and find Jack behind her ready to hold her, and she let the envy go.  It was true that she might be less than self-sufficient at the moment, but that would pass.  At least she hoped it would.  She and Jack still needed to decide what they were going to do with a baby.  Thus, the elaborate get-up for tonight.

   Cat managed to tame the few strands of hair that were trying to escape the coiffure she'd persuaded Winn's hair into just as a door slammed somewhere downstairs.  "Looks like the boys are back," she remarked as excited yelling spread through the lower level of the house.  Grace and Sarah both got up to go chastise their rowdy sons, while Elizabeth came over to give Winn a hug.

   "You're gorgeous.  Positively _glowing_," she teased as Winn made a face.  Every shop they'd gone into had rung with that same complement.

   "No I'm not.  I'm fat and irritable."

   Elizabeth and Cat looked at each other, then at Winn.  "And you've never looked better."

   Winn threw her hands up in the air.  "I give up."

   "Tell me,"  Elizabeth smiled evilly, "does Jack appreciate the extra cleavage the baby's given you?"

   "Elizabeth Swann!" Winn gasped, completely flabbergasted.

   "That's Mrs. Turner, to you."

   "Yes, old, gossipy, Mrs. Turner."  The women all turned to the door to find Jack leaning against one doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest.  "Never thought you'd sink to that, Lizzy."

   "That's what becomes of married mothers whose husbands leave them alone all day, Jack.  Before you know it, Winn and I will be sitting around gossiping about the neighbors and complaining about our husbands."

   Jack grumbled, "I'll have to mention to Will that he's not beating you regularly enough."  With a melodramatic sigh, he pointed his head towards the hallway.  "As much as I hate to do it, I have to break up your gathering, ladies.  Dom's assured me that if we don't sit down to dinner now, it'll be ruined forevermore and it'll be on your heads."

   Cat and Elizabeth both gave Winn one last hug before leaving the room, ginning slyly at Jack as they left.  Elizabeth went so far as to push Jack into the room so she could close the door, leaving the couple alone together.

   "What was that about?" Jack asked, as his eyes traveled over Winn's form.  For all his teasing, she still was rather small - nowhere near as large as she'd be in another month or two.  The maroon color she was wearing made her hair seem a bit browner than usual, something he knew Winn would be grateful for.  She often complained that she had indecisive hair because it was so dark.  Personally, Jack loved it, although he wouldn't mind if she would grow it out again.  He remembered how long it'd been when they'd first met.  Now it was shorter than his.

   "Nothing.  I think that, umm, they're all glad to have the opportunity to dress me up a bit."  Winn resisted the urge to run her hands through her hair, knowing Cat would be upset if her creation didn't last even five minutes.  She smiled bashfully as Jack crossed the room to stand in front of her.

   Slipping a knuckle under her chin, Jack raised Winn's head, looking down into her eyes for a moment, before lowering his to give her a gentle kiss.  Winn shivered, but responded, slipping her arms around Jack's shoulders and rising up on her toes.  She'd missed this.  It'd been months since either of them had been in good enough health for this.

   Just as the kiss was on the verge of getting out of hand, a knock came on the door.  The couple broke apart slowly, Jack not letting go of his wife.  "If it's one of the kids, they're _not_ staying."

   Winn shook her head.  "It's dinner.  The girls thought it'd be nice for us to dine alone tonight."

   Jack's eyebrows rose as a smirk spread across his face.  Giving Winn one last kiss before going to answer the door, Jack murmured, "God bless busybodies."

Later - much later - Winn stopped drawing and looked at Jack.  Drawing together was something they'd started as a way to dispel rumors that all they did together was spend time in bed.  This way, they could pull out evidence that they'd been doing other things - as long as no one asked how long they spent on the sketches.  

   It was a game of sorts - one of them would draw a backdrop while the other would fill in the foreground, both of them doing their work at the same time.  Jack's . . . contributions . . . tended to be on the lascivious side of things, while Winn tried to keep hers a bit more tame.  Needless to say, not every picture was pulled out at proof.

   They'd been doing this for some time when Winn had finally gathered the courage to ask Jack, "What are we going to do, Jack?"

   "What'd'ye mean, love?"  He saw that Winn was agitatedly playing with her piece of charcoal, so he took it away, setting all drawing supplies on the floor.  Giving Winn his full attention, he asked, "What are we going to do about what?"

   "The baby."

   "Well, I was thinking we could find a nice wolf pack, or perhaps a den of otters, and -"

   "Jack."  Winn had a smile on her face, although it didn't quite reach her eyes.

   Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Jack said, "There's not much we _can_ do about the baby.  For one thing, we've already done enough - that's how we got the baby.  It's going to come when it's ready, and _then_ we'll have things to do, but until then all we can do is wait."

   "I know that.  I meant, what are we going to do with a baby once we have one that I can hand off to you?  Newborns can't exactly be taken aboard ship, Jack."

   _Oh._  "Well, to tell you the truth, I hadn't given it much thought yet.  We've been strugglin' to keep our heads above water up until now."

   "I'm six months pregnant, Jack.  I think we need to decide on what we're going to do, or at least consider it."

   "Alright.  What do you think we should do?"

   Winn stopped and looked at him as if he were someone she didn't recognize.  What was this?  Jack was supposed to make the decision - she might argue with him, but he . . . he was 'the Captain."  That was his _job._  But the fact that he was asking her opinion made her hope that perhaps things might not be too horrible.  "I don't know," she admitted.  "I do know that I don't want to be left behind for months on end while you're out pillaging and plundering.  But I also know that it's not a good idea to take a child on a ship until they've at least been taught to stay out of things, which is usually between the ages of two and three.  I'm willing to stay on land for that long, but I want our child to know its father as well, and I don't want to ask you to live on land for that long, because I know you'd hate it."

  "I wouldn't abandon you or my child, Winnie.  I would stay if you asked."  He knew she'd never ask it of him though.

   "No.  After all this time on land, and with getting the _Pearl_ back, I'm sure you'll be eager to be getting on with your work."

   _Ah, yes.  The _Pearl._  There's a good excuse._  Gibbs had been sending regular reports on how repairs were coming, knowing that either Jack or Winn would wish to stay updated.  Last week, Jack had finally sent a reply back.  The modifications he'd sent to Gibbs for the Captain's cabin were going to add another month or two to the repair time.  "We've another six months to decide what to do, Winnie.  The _Pearl_ won't be complete until then."  He paused before adding, "We both know that you - that _we'll_ always be welcome here."

   "But without Grandfather -"

   "Ry and Cat will be here with their brood.  It'll be just as loud and boisterous as always, love."  That was what she was afraid off.  She loved her family, but she was used to having time alone with her husband.  Jack saw the mild dismay on her face, and tucked it away to think about later.  "Like I said, we've months to consider our options, and another ordeal to get through before that time is up.  Just focus on getting through the next three months.  Then we'll decide where we'll be living until the three of us are ready to move back aboard the _Pearl_ year round."  He nuzzled her shoulder.  "I don't suppose I could persuade you to think of other things for a bit?"

   Winn smiled, comforted that Jack was going to work through this with her.  "Well, you might have to try rather hard, but it's possible."

   "Blaspheme."

   "And why's that."

   "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow.  Women swoon for me."

   "Is that right?"

   "Aye."

   "Prove it."

   Leaning over her, Jack whispered, "My pleasure."

Kendra fidgeted as she waited for everyone to be served at dinner several nights later.  This was the one time of day that everyone was gathered together for a meal, so it was the opportune moment to share her news, really.  _'Tis no different than addressing the crew in the galley,_ she told herself.  After all, the dinning hall was huge - the table at least fifteen feet long.  Yet, once there was thirty-odd people in the room, not counting the babes in arms, that space quickly became much smaller.  And louder.

   But she'd resolved herself to make the announcement.  Jim had blown her cover with the women, and Jack was bound to slip up sometime soon.  Or perhaps they could even figure her out.  But it wouldn't do for her façade to be failing before everyone.  What kind of pirate let a lie fizzle out?  It was pathetic.  Better to tell the truth once the lie no longer served its purpose.  Breathing deeply, Kendra began to mull over how exactly she would, in a sense, expose herself.  The _Dilettante_ had come into port that evening, and so she planned on leaving the next morning, but that didn't make the truth of what she had to say any easier.

   When Jack saw the small pirate stand, he guessed what was coming.  He'd heard from one of the young people running around - one of Ry's children who'd gone to town with him, no doubt - that a new ship had come into port.  The _Dilettante_.  He envied Kendra's ability to leave on her own ship when she wished, but bit that back.  His ship was being repaired, and Winn's peace of mind was more important than being free to come and go as he pleased.  Even if he had the _Pearl__,_ staying with Winn would be his priority.  _But if I had my ship, I could talk her onto going on it with me until it was time for the babe to come.  _Dismissing his thoughts, he watched as the small pirate tried to gain the attention of the horde at the table.

   "Hello, everyone, I have an announcement. . . ."  Kendra scowled as she only gained about a third of the table's attention.  And if she was going to do this, she only wanted to do it once, which was why she was doing this at dinner.  Clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, she tried again.  "Morgan household!"  The tone of authority in her voice made everyone but the youngest children look in her direction.  

   For a moment she froze_.  That was effective. . . I must remember that these people are used to listening to captains._  Recomposing herself, she hid her slight bit of anxiety.  "Sorry to disturb your dinner, but I have an announcement to make.  I know that . . . I have not been the most forthcoming with information, but it goes with the territory.  I . . . I not all that I seem."  The older children were looking particularly interested, especially Bella.  Out of the corner of her eye, Kendra saw that Alex - who'd stopped by to see Winn - was leaning back in his chair and watching her with a blank face.  _Wonder what his problem is._  "Aye, I'm a pirate, aye, I'm an old acquaintance . . . friend . . . of Sparrow's, and indeed I served as his cabin boy for a time."  Pausing, she swallowed hard.  Somehow, this never got easier, and the thirty pairs of eyes weren't helping.  Winn's calm gaze helped bolster her, though.  Winn, a woman who'd leaned to deal with male pirates on her own terms, not on theirs.  "I am Kendra - Captain Kendra - of the _Dilettante_.  Twenty-five, most definitely a woman - despite my appearance - and a pirate in my own right.  So . . ." she felt her voice go out for a moment.  "Any questions?  Oh, but before that.  As you've likely heard, my ship has come into port and I will be taking a short trip with it.  A week, maybe two depending on conditions."

   The only Morgans that seemed affected by her announcement were the women who were nodding as if they'd been suspecting something like this was coming, Winn who was looking proud, the men who were shooting Jack suspicious glances, and Bella, who was looking somewhat shocked.  Cat had leaned over and was whispering to her - undoubtedly telling her to contain her questions for later.  Elizabeth was whispering to Will - probably trying to wipe the surprised look off his face - and Jack was just looking at her as if he were prepared to ask, _Is__ that the best you've got?_

   "Come lass - surely you can come up with something a bit more scandalous than that."

   Kendra shrugged.  "I haven't had to give the speech too many times.  You had to have it bluntly . . . pointed out . . . before you realized anything was amiss with my identity," she smirked.  "And well . . . the only other person I've really told is Janette.  This'll be my second time."

   Jack shrugged.  Kendra's gaze moved on to Alex.  He face was still blank, the usual humor in her eyes gone in favor of a more thoughtful look, as if he was                     trying to make some sort of decision about her.  He didn't look happy, but he didn't look upset either.

   "What, smuggler?" she narrowed her eyes.  "If you've got a question, ask it.  I've got dinner to finish eating, and I'd be much obliged if the allotted time for questions is over soon." 

   The look disappeared as if it'd never been on his face, his customary look of amusement taking its place.  "No, just wondering how long it took Sparrow to figure out her secret.  I'm betting it took longer than three weeks."

   Kendra grinned.  "Much longer."

   Jack grumbled.  "It's not as if I didn't have other headaches to deal with at the time, _Pierre_."

   Kendra smirked.  "Aye, but it was your choice to pick up the Fluff in the first place.  Plus you didn't have to be the only person she could talk to.  And . . . making trouble for big, bad captains is what I do best."  She smirked and scanned the group.  "No questions?  Good.  Then we can all return to dinner."

   Kendra returned to her meal as Alex and Jack fell into the pattern of good-natured ribbing that'd been formed between them over the years.  "So, Jack, how long did it take you to figure it out?  And how did you manage to get someone as quick-tempered as her aboard?"  Alex ginned.  "If I didn't know better, I'd say you like being lambasted by irritable women."   

   The miniature pirate was engrossing herself in her meal.  _Of all the things to mention . . . I think I'll have to hurt that smuggler if he stays that impertinent about me. . . ._

   Noticing the blush that had stained Kendra's cheeks, Winn turned on her friend in exasperation.  "Alexander Thompson, are you implying that I have a hot temper?"  He nodded.  Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him.  "I swear I will get you one of these days."

   "And you," she turned to Jack.  "Why is it that I've never heard about any of this before?  It's not as if you haven't had time to tell me a story that seems this interesting - especially if you feel as if you can call on Kendra's aide when you need it."__

   Kendra scowled at Sparrow.  "If you dare to say that I'm so small that I'm forgettable, I will remind you of many memories.  Need I kick you in the shin, or inflict other pain to prove my point?"

   Jack grimaced.  "The things men have to put up with."  Winn thumped him on the shoulder.  "Okay, okay, I'll tell the story.  But not now."

   Kendra wasn't about to let him get away with that.  If the story had to be told, it'd be where she could hear it and cut back on any 'embellishments' he might try to add.  Setting down her utensils, she grinned and leaned forward.  "How about we tell that tale before _all_ those wishing to listen.  Wouldn't want you to miss any of the proper details, Sparrow."

   "And I'm sure the children would love to hear the tale," Elizabeth added.

   Kendra raised an eyebrow.  "All of the children?"

   Winn shrugged.  "Well, the ones under two might find it hard to sit still for as long as this might take, but the rest love a story they've never heard before."  Sounds of agreement rose from most of the children at the table.

   Kendra mumbled.  "Guess we'll have to work out the details of that whole storm. . . ."

   Jack winced.  "You wanted to go into that?"

   Winn looked between the two with raised eyebrows.  "Surely you weren't planning on leaving anything out on my account, were you, _Jack_?"

   Kendra winced and looked to her food.  "Not particularly, but it'd be hard to skip too much of it. . . ."

   Jack simply grabbed Winn's hand under the table and squeezed it in reassurance.  "Don't tell me you're jealous, Winnie," he joked.

    "I'm not.  I'm just selective when it comes to hearing about . . . certain aspects of your past."  _And that's jealousy the last time I checked._

   Jack simply squeezed her hand again, while asking in an aggrievedly innocent voice, "You think I remember any of the women I met before you graced me with your beautiful visage?"

   Winn rolled her eyes, but she shifted her hand so their fingers intertwined.  "You're such a liar.  Has anyone ever told you that you're too roguish for your own good?"

   Kendra glanced at the couple and sighed, slumping.  "Nothin' to worry 'bout Winn.  Not romantic in any way.  The daft man thought I was no older than Bella the whole time.  Until it was blatantly in his face, that is."

   "Maybe you should tell the tale from the beginning instead of giving bits and pieces that worry temperamental pregnant ladies."

   "The day I need advice from a smuggler is the day I wear a dress," Kendra muttered.

   With the conversation having taken a turn for more interesting waters, the onlookers quieted down and let Kendra and Jack tell their tale.

Kendra had been at sea for nearly two weeks when she came across . . . a golden opportunity really.  She'd decided before she left that she was going to stay with Winn . . . and Sparrow . . . until the babe was born.  And perhaps a bit afterwards.  Jack Sparrow as a father was something that defined imagination, but her curiosity wouldn't let her miss it.  Besides, she'd come to respect Winn - irritability and all - and she'd like to get to know the woman a bit better.  She'd been working hard for the past five years since her short sojourn on the _Black Pearl,_ and she'd been working hard since then.  A bit of break would do her good, and she was now assured that her crew - or at least her first mate and a good portion of the crew - was loyal to her.  She could take a bit of time for herself.  Right after she settled a personal score.

   The _Persephone_ was easy enough to spot.  The ship was trimmed with luxurious adornments.  Kendra found it hard to believe the thing had made it all the way from England and was still floating.  Grinning back at her crew, she let out a yell.

   "Ready to pluck some Brit wigs?"

   "Aye aye!" was the reply.

   She turned back and found it hard not to grin broader.  The _Persephone._  She'd paid some informants to keep tabs on any officials that would be profitable to attack.  _Perfect.  Go out to stretch my legs and I get the perfect opportunity to pluck a fat wig.  One that is in sore need of a lesson.  You're in for a bit of a surprise, Hallington._  She breathed deeply, preparing herself for battle.  As they neared the British ship, Kendra was glad of the _Dilettante's_ speed and agility, despite the incompetence of the other crew.  Hallington's men were obviously not expecting to be attacked, so did not react quickly enough to fire many of their cannon.  Never mind that their aim was terrible.

   Kendra and her crew boarded, looking every bit a band of blood-thirty pirates, but her crew was under strict orders.  Their captain had made it clear not to kill unless it was absolutely necessary, and they would follow those orders or risk her wrath.

   Hallington's crew was easily subdued and many did not even put up much of a fight.  _Pampered wigs indeed,_ Kendra mused, striding up to the captain after the pirates were most definitely in control. 

   The man had his hands tied behind his back, and was standing with Kendra's first mate, Finnan, who was guarding him. 

   Her first mate nudged the captive.  "Captain Harding, meet Captain Ken."

   Harding looked to Kendra for only a moment, before looking at the man standing behind her, one of her faithful crew members, John. 

   "What is it that you want, Captain Ken?" Harding asked with a trembling voice, mistakenly taking John for the one in charge.

   John looked momentarily confused, but he managed to smirk as Kendra raised an eyebrow.  Clearing her voice, she said, "Excuse me, Captain Harding, but _I_ happen to be Captain Ken."

   "What?  But, you're not more than a boy. . . ."  The man saw her expression darken and instantly regretted his words. 

   "Only a boy, hmm?"  Kendra nearly snarled at the man.  "I'll let the insult slide this time, but if you wish not to be keelhauled, I would advise you to direct me to where Hallington is cowering.  _Sharply._"

Hallington had been enjoying the privacy of his luxurious cabin and didn't know anything was amiss until the cannons were fired.  Scowling in annoyance, he considered going on deck to see the situation, but then locked his door and settled down for his letter writing again.  He sighed at the commotion that started to become closer, then paused.  If the commotion was on _his_ ship then there was a threat of the _Persephone_ being captured. 

   The noise got louder, and then suddenly very, very quiet.  This was bad for Hallington.  Quite bad indeed.  Guessing - and correctly so - that pirates had attacked and taken his ship, the best course of action in his mind was to hide.  Perhaps they would loot and leave them relatively unharmed.  He hid inside one of his many closets and hoped desperately that they would not search his cabin. 

   Meanwhile, Kendra assigned her men to search the ship for anyone else hiding, while she and Finnan dealt with this 'Hallington' fellow.  Captain Harding's direction had been correct and Kendra couldn't help but smirk at the door to Hallington's cabin.

   Pushing it lightly, she sighed at the resistance.  It was locked.  She then shoved it with her shoulder, stepping back when nothing happened, scowling at the inflexible wood. 

   "Please tend to the door, Finnan."

   "Aye captain," her first mate grinned, "it'd be my pleasure."

   Kendra took another step back as Finnan kicked the door.  It held, but was definitely weakened.  Finnan kicked again and the wood sagged.  He punched his hand through and opened the lock, flexing his wrist to ensure no damage was done. 

   She set a hand on his shoulder.  "Don't overdo it on a wig."

   He nodded and the two walked in, examining the room. 

   "Probably hiding," she muttered, nudging Finnan.

   Finnan responded in like.  "Likely the closet or the bed."

   "Go for the bed, I'll handle the closet."

   The two pirates took out  a weapon, Finnan his pistol, Kendra her cutlass, and went to the two possible hiding spots.  Finnan kicked the delicate bed and overturned it without too much effort, finding nothing.  He sighed.  "It's the closet, Captain."

   "Thank ye, Finnan."  Smirking broadly now that her prey was located, she jerked open the closet door and blinked as a spout of words met her.

   "His Majesty will have your heads for this!  I'm sure of it!  I am Paxton Tyndale, Lord Chancellor Hallington, His Majesty's personal friend and advisor!  He will not take such an offense lightly!"  Hallington continued to arrogantly rant about how he should be spared. 

   Kendra glanced back at Finnan and sighed. He smiled weakly and came closer.

   "All right, out of the closet," Kendra grumbled, no longer listening to her prisoner.  When he didn't heed her, or even stop talking, she growled and roughly grabbed his arm, jerking him out of the closet and into the open space of the cabin.

   His tone had immediately changed to more defensive, and his choice of complaints switched to the fact that she'd touched him - though he thought Kendra was a he, as most did - and how the pirate would contaminate him.

   Kendra tired of this and released his arm, pulling her cutlass up swiftly and leaving it against his throat.  Hallington instantly shut his mouth, his eyes focused on the blade, and his body quivering. 

   Now that Kendra and Finnan were able to get a good look at Hallington, Kendra felt like scoffing.  _This was the man that sentenced Sparrow to thirty-five lashes?  I'd like to see him take two.  Even one._  The only thing strong about him were his eyes, and they were starting to falter in the face of his newly worsened circumstances.  Other than that, Hallington was a middle-aged man, wearing the customary powdered wig, looking a bit rounder than the weathered men Kendra was used to, and most definitely vile in her eyes.  Not just for his actions towards Winn and Sparrow, but also for the arrogant way he tried to plead for his life by speaking of his importance.

   When a time had passed, Hallington dared to lift his gaze and look at Kendra and Finnan.  He instantly took Finnan for the captain, and Kendra as a scrawny cabin boy.  Just as their appearances would have announced.

   Kendra's first mate was tall, maybe a hair taller than Sparrow.  Finnan's brown eyes and reddish hair made Hallington think of the inferior Irish, Scottish, or Welsh, though his tanned skin spoke of living in the Caribbean for a long time, but he didn't linger on the thought long.  The man scowling at him and the blade still at his neck required his attention at the moment. 

   Kendra smirked as she noticed Hallington finally realized that he was not in charge of events.  "The man does shut up, Finnan.  I guess all it requires is a blade to his neck."

   Finnan chuckled. "Aye, it would seem so."

   "W-what do you want with me?" Hallington grimaced as his cultured voice trembled.

   Her expression broadened; mischievous to Finnan, it represented nothing but a  malicious temper to Hallington.  "You're Hallington, right?"

   He nodded slightly, afraid of injuring himself on her cutlass.

   "You know, Hallington is such a long and hideous name.  I think I'll call you 'Hal,' just for convenience."

   "But, I must -" Hallington began, shutting up as she applied more pressure to the cutlass.

   "Shut your mouth, wig.  I didn't ask for you to reply.  But about getting to that answer," she bared her teeth at him.  "I hear you're the one that sentenced Sparrow to his death."

   Hallington nodded.  He was proud of it.  One less pirate to interfere with the King's colonies and citizens.

   "Well, you see, this causes me a bit of dilemma.  Before he went gallivanting about the Caribbean, he owed me a few debts.  But, seeing that you, in a manner of speakin', killed him, it's rather impossible for me to get payment."  Her eyes flashed with excitement as she leaned her head forward.  "And you'll just have to take his place."  She pulled back her head and examined Hallington again.  "'Tis a pity though.  You look to be such a soft man."

   Hallington flushed and really wanted to speak his mind, but didn't dare with that blade against his neck.  Just as it loosened, he heard a click and saw that she now had a pistol aimed at his chest. 

   Kendra lifted her cutlass to his wig.  "The first order of business will be seein' just what yer hair looks like.  Always been curious what you pigs hide under there."  With an ease that disturbed Hallington, she removed his wig and examined it from the tip of her blade, then looked to him and nearly blanched.  Hallington's thinning brown hair was oily to a point that Kendra only thought the most disgusting pirates would exhibit.  And as she squinted, Kendra became most disturbed.  Was that a louse?  She instantly dropped the wig to the floor and stomped on it furiously. 

   "My wig!" Hallington squirmed, about to take a step towards her when he felt Finnan's blade touch his neck, lying lazily along his shoulder.

   "You're filthy," Kendra muttered, done with her stomping.  Cringing as she looked to Hallington, she smirked as an idea came to her.  "And being the generous person that I am, I think I'll do you a favor.  People can't go around being as dirty as you, especially being _His Majesty's_ personal friend and advisor."  She barely held back sneering at the title.  If it could be considered one.

   "Y-you should worry about your own neck.  When His Majesty hears about this -" Hallington began again, his voice much less confident this time.

   Kendra sighed and waved her hand.  "I know, I know.  He'll put out another warrant for me.  More money on my head.  But Hal," she couldn't help but grin as his new name, "you have to understand.  I've already got a head on my price.  And as much as that threat of yours makes me shudder with fear," she took a step closer and put her blade to his chin, forcing his head up, "Harrassing little ol' you won't do much more to me.  Besides, we could kill you here and now.  No one would be able to know who did it.  Could even set it up so it looked like your ornate little ship sunk in a freak storm.  The Caribbean waters are just _so_ unpredictable." 

   Hallington let her words sink in.  _The boy has a point. . . .  Perhaps . . . perhaps I could bribe him._

   Kendra had already noticed something on his desk and left Finnan to guard the man.  She picked up the letter that Hallington had been writing just moments before and smirked.  "This is your handwriting?"

   He was too indignant and vexed to speak, but Finnan bumped him. "Answer the captain."

   "Captain?" Hallington looked to Finnan in shock.  "But how could such a young boy -"

   Kendra whirled and snapped at him.  _This whole routine is getting quite old. . . ._  Where once she'd appreciated - even encouraged - the misconception, it was now growing on her nerves. "Wrong again, Hal!"  She smirked as he flinched at the name.  "I happen to be twenty-five, Captain, and quite likely . . ." Kendra set a hand on her hip and jutted it out in a somewhat effective imitation of a feminine posture, "a woman."

   "But . . . that's. . . ."

   "Answer my question!" she growled.  "Did you write this or not?"

   Hallington nodded.

   Her smirk grinned.  "Lovely characters, though I must say your loops could use a bit of work.  Even mine are better than this."  Kendra continued to pick apart his penmanship, before she began reading it aloud.

   "My dearest Caroline, how I miss you.  Surely my wife would not. . . ." Kendra trailed off, laughing.  "A mistress, hmm?  Or is she just a ladybird?  Though . . . I'd think it more towards a mistress.  Most men like you don't think prostitutes worthy of pen, paper, and ink.  Let alone the time to write them."

   Hallington did not reply, only looking away, a faint pink shade to his cheeks.

   "Am I embarrassing you, Hal?  Because if this is enough to do it, you're going to have a rough few hours ahead of you."

   "But, Captain . . . I . . . I could pay you to leave me, _us_, in peace. . . ."

   She scoffed.  "Don't worry yourself, Hal."  Kendra's smile did little to comfort him.  "We'll just help ourselves.  But I'm glad to hear you offer it.  Takes a burden off me conscience." 

   Kendra made good on her words, had Hallington stripped of his finery - "Can't spread the lice, now can we?" - and had dressed him in rags she'd scrounged up.  She had originally planned on watching him get stripped down, but after catching a glimpse of Hallington's hairy body she changed her mind.  She'd only seen a few men naked and . . . this was not one she wanted to see.  His hands were tied and those ropes were connected to a rope tied around his chest.  Hallington tried several times to ask what she was planning, but he received a cutlass to him, or a swift, "Patience.  You'll see soon enough, Hal."

   This accomplished, she had Hallington positioned in full sight of the crew and spoke loud enough for her entire crew to listen.  "Since our wonderful nobleman Hal was looking so in disrepair, I took it upon myself to do him a favor.  One to repay the many favors he's done to me. . . ."

   Hallington looked to her with wide eyes, wishing he could dare to speak.  But the cutlass on his shoulder kept his silent.

   Kendra laughed for a moment.  "Give him his bath, gents!"

   With that, a portion of her crew pulled back on a rope, and Hallington found that the cutlass was off his shoulder, and . . . his feet were off the ground.  He flailed for a moment, then barely held back screaming as he saw the ocean below him.  In all its black watery depth.

   "Bathe away!"

   Hallington went into shock as he was plunged into the ocean.  A few seconds later he was ripped back out, sputtering and gasping for air.  Kendra smirked and chuckled, leaning on the railing.  "Having fun, Hal?"

   He shuddered and was about to voice a nasty curse or something to that effect and she threw up her hand again.  Hallington felt the awful sensation of falling again . . . and inhaled water once more.  He was held under a little longer and was far more docile as he surfaced a second time.  Kendra repeated the practice a few more times, then allowed her men to drop him on the deck and untie him. 

   By this point, Hallington was a sopping wet mess.  Not to mention that his own crew was having a hard time keeping the chuckles or smirks hidden.  Kendra found this especially rewarding.  Even his crew didn't like the wig. 

   Crouching next to the coughing man, Kendra smiled at him.  "Since you were such a good sport about all this, I think I'll hold off on the lashes.  You're far too soft of a man anyway.  But, you will note that all of your belongings are missing, as are you food stores, ammunition, and most anything else helpful to you.  And all of the gold inlaid in your ship?"  Hallington looked to her wide eyes.  Her smiled broadened.  "We picked that out too.  We got everything, down to every barrel of salted pork and sheet of paper.  Thanks for that.  I haven't been able to find quality quills or paper for a time.  Your supplies will serve nicely.  Oh, and don't go looking for your cannon either, we got those too."  Kendra stood and stretched.  "You're picked clean, Hal.  Simple as that."

   She nodded to one of her men and they hauled Hallington to his feet. 

   "One last thing before we go.  Look up at the glorious flag of _His Majesty's_ proud empire.  I'm sure he'd be very proud."

   Hesitantly he looked up and could only gape in utter horror. 

   "Only article of your clothes left.  But . . . I don't think those knickers will fit you anymore.  Especially with all those holes in them."  Kendra mockingly straightened herself and saluted Hallington's waving undergarments.  "To the King!  Long live him.  And I hope he stays on his side of the world."

   Her men saluted, and couldn't help but smile at the entire situation.  No deaths, very few injuries, and being part of the vast humiliation of a high ranking official was _quite_ enjoyable.  Let alone that the amount of loot was considerable.  Especially since so little effort had been necessary.

   Kendra and her men began to re-board the _Dilettante_, loaded heavily with the treasures from the _Persephone._

   "One last thing, Hal!" Kendra grinned.  "I'd advise headin' back to Port Charles.  Closest port.  And . . . if you don't like fishing for yourselves you won't have much to eat!  Ta!"  She saluted him and was grinning from ear to ear on her voyage back towards Osprey Point.


	34. Hatchings

**Author's Note: look how quickly I got this out!  I'm so proud of myself.  We'll discount the fact that this particular part of the story has been written for over a month now.  Further notes at the end.**

**PS – Kendra belongs to bobo3**

******************************************************

The months passed quickly enough for all but Winn.  As her pregnancy progressed and she got more and more unwieldy, Winn's lost if approved activities got shorter and shorter.  This was done out of precaution as well as necessity.  There'd been a few times where Winn had had mild contractions kick in for an hour or so – something that happened to most women during late pregnancy, but something to be avoided in her circumstances.  

   Oddly enough, even though her limitations grew, so did her patience – enough so that she was merely bored instead of continually irritated.  Her friends and family each took turns sitting with her during the days, but she wouldn't let any stay for longer than an hour or two.  Her reasoning was that she didn't want to confine anyone in the same way she was.  Jack and Will were the only ones who really paid any attention to that request; Will because he his own work to complete, Jack because his nephews shanghaied him for several hours every day to work on their boat . . . and because he knew that Winn was serious when she asked that people not limit their activities for her.  He also didn't want to catch the rough side of Winn's tongue later.  Although, at the moment, that translated into disappointed look that tore at his heart rather than his ears.

   To help the days pass, Winn tried to learn how to do needlepoint or quilting – or even simple mending – but found that her fingers were just as clumsy as they'd ever been.  The women tried to keep her busy by asking her to draw enough quilt designs that every member of her family would have one, and deciding that new portraits were needed for the entryway, but all this did was eat through Winn's art supplies.

   The bright parts of her day were the times spent with her husband and with Kendra.  The latter was a source of constant delight.  Winn had long ago decided that her family – whom she included Will and Elizabeth in – was her sanity at this point in time.  They were there to do whatever she needed, but what she _really_ was some mental exercise.  The younger woman provided this; she had a . . . unique outlook on life, one that Winn enjoyed hearing about.  Kendra was glad to talk, bus she was unsure why Winn wanted to hear so much about what she thought.  Often she'd retaliated by asking Winn her own questions.  Advanced pregnancy had made Winn somewhat philosophical, so she was somewhat easy to get off track.

   But as much as Winn enjoyed the distraction that Kendra offered, most of her idle thoughts were focused on her nights.  That was when she had Jack to herself.  If her family was her sanity and her friends her delight, then Jack was her refuge and comfort.  They often retired right after the evening meal, and spent the hours until breakfast cloistered away together.  First Jack would regale her with stories of what'd happen during his hours with her nephews.  The boys – in typical boy fashion – had decided to name their ship 'The Daft Maiden.'  As he told his stories, he worked on unknotting the muscles in Winn's back and shoulders, a process that took as much as an hour at times.  Once that was done, they'd turn to individual pursuits.  Jack could often be found pouring over reports and lists and comments not only from Gibbs, but from Basil Cuthbert – the head of the shipwrights guild who'd taken the _Pearl_ under his care – and from Anamaria who'd decided to stick around until his ship had been repaired.  The bills he handed over to Winn to handle, which she did gratefully.  She was curious as to some of the correspondence, but Jack usually managed to distract her from inquiring too far.  When they weren't engaged in these activities, they read, or drew together, or played games.  And after a few hours spent like this, they'd go to bed.

   It was during these times, in the dark hours they spent next to each other, that Winn unloaded her own cares on Jack.  She'd confided that most of what she did during the day was think about life; her life, their life, their new life.  The life inside her.  Jack listened solemnly, offering advice or comfort when it was needed, but knowing that most of what Winn needed was an ear that would listen and not offer unwanted comments.  Any problems she had, she managed to work through by the simple act of talking out loud, and he was more than glad to be her sounding board.

   And so, the next six weeks passed with nary a cause for excitement.

****************************************

Winn had been feeling restless all day.  She would have started pacing, but that was an indulgence that no one in her family was willing to allow her.  So she settled with sitting in the family room, looking out the large bay windows.  Jack had sat with her until midmorning, and then in a temperamental burst common to frustrated very pregnant women, she'd told him to leave and go work on the dinghy with the boys.  It was bad enough that she was restless without having to suffer someone else's restlessness as well.  Jack had simply looked at her as if judging how serious she was.  She must have looked _very_ serious because he had kissed her and left.

   Kendra wasn't interested in building the dinghy, which would keep her in Jack's presence, so she wandered the house and kept an eye on Winn whenever she passed.   Winn was grateful for the company, but as the weeks had passed, even the female pirate's presence had started to wear on her.  "I know you're just as eager to move around as Jack was – you're just able to hide it better.  You don't have to sit here and watch me.  I'm not going to explode and the child isn't due for another two weeks at the least.  I'll be fine if you go."

   Kendra shrugged.  "Doesn't really bother me to do this.  You're much better company than Sparrow, and . . . I guess I've started to like this role."  Kendra smirked.  "And besides, we wouldn't want you overexerting yourself.  Want that lil' Sparrowling nice and healthy.  And yes, I know that isn't what you want to hear –"

   "You're right."  Winn went back to looking out her window.  Every once in awhile, one of her sisters or nieces or nephews would stop by and talk to her.  Ry was in Antigua talking to his second in command about business.  Richard and his family had gone home a month or so ago to make sure the plantation was running smoothly, but would be back sometime next week.  Marcus had also been granted a leave of absence by Norrington.  The Commodore insisted that he'd been putting in too many hours of late and needed some shore-leave, but they all knew that he'd been given the time to stay with Winn until the babe was born.  Winn had smiled, bemused, but Jack had been glad to have another adult to pull into the boat project so he could spend more time with Winn.  If only. . . .

   Kendra, bored by Winn's silence, looked to the ceiling.  "What's it like?  Havin' a . . . lil' person inside you?"

   Winn turned from her view of the beach.  _I wonder where Elizabeth and Will got to?_  She hadn't seen them all day.  "Well, I'm not sure how to describe it."

   Kendra looked to Winn and nodded. "I guess that's understandable.  One of those things that more than likely very personal, very. . . ." she narrowed her eyes.  "Not even sure how to describe me own thoughts."

   "It . . . it messes with you.  It changes how you think, especially once you're big enough to have visual proof that there _is_ another life inside you.  People say that once the baby is born, life changes, but life changes _before_ the baby is born.  As soon as you can feel it moving inside you, you want nothing more than to protect it.  Which is odd since it's not going to go anywhere for awhile."  Winn laughed.  "At least it won't if you're smart and stay at home for your pregnancy."  Why were tears pricking her eyes if she was laughing?  "And like I said, your emotions run rampant."

   Kendra chuckled.  "Aye, but ye'll be fine now.  Even with the emotions.  Got more people than you want to think about keeping an eye on ye."  Kendra cocked her head a bit. 

   "You're right about that.  At least Alex has stayed conspicuously absent –"  The door opened, interrupting her mid-sentence.

   "Did I hear someone say my name?"

   Kendra looked over and tensed.  _Why didn't I hear him come close? _ 

    "Alex!"  Winn noticed the face of her companion as it went blank.  That happened often whenever the two were in the same room, just as Alex seemed determined not to pay too much attention to the presence of the small pirate.  There was something between them, Winn was sure of it.  And once she had other things off her mind, she was going to figure out what it was.  For all she knew, they simply disliked each other.  Then again. . . .  "What are you doing here?"   

   Kendra narrowed her eyes and felt herself instinctively go on the defensive.  _Him again . . ._

"Thought I'd come adore mother and child.  Has anyone mentioned how radiant you look?"  Kendra rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. __

   "Careful, Alex.  You don't want to make Jack jealous again."

   "Ah, Spitfire, I have every confidence that you're more than able to keep Sparrow in line."

   "You assume a lot of a woman who can't even get out of her chair without people protesting."  Winn looked back out her window.  "I'd be content with a short walk, really, I would.  Just so I could sit in the sun."

   Kendra watched the two converse and did her best to look nonchalant.  After a moment, she stood and stretched.  "Well, as long as no one else knows, I see no reason why ye can't go out for a short walk.  It won't kill ye, that's for sure."

   Winn looked hesitant for a moment, but then she nodded.  "You're right.  Although Jack might if he catches me.  No, Jack would understand.  He wouldn't like it, but he'd understand.  It's my sisters we'll have to watch out for."

    Kendra nodded.  "I'll keep lookout if you trust this lug to accompany you."

   "Well . . . I suppose I'll have to risk it."  She let Alex help her up.  Together the two old friends left the room as Kendra watched the hallway.

   "All clear."  She walked briskly ahead of them, searching each corridor before nodding in approval.

   "I'd almost forgotten what the sun feels like," Winn murmured as they finally made it outside.  "I think it's been close to a month since they've let me out."

   Winn didn't know how long they managed to stay outside before Grace and Cat tracked them down.  She was sitting on a bench with her two friends, simply soaking in the rays when trouble found them.  "How long do you think it'll be before they realize I'm not in the house?"

   Kendra had just smirked back at her. "Looks clear for quite a ways.  Should I go back in and pretend to take an interest in the more 'feminine' arts?  I could probably keep Grace and Cat distracted for a short time at least."

   "Winifred Morgan.  What are you doing?"

   "Then again, maybe not," Kendra muttered under her breath.

   "It's alright, Cat.  I carried her out."  If the looks on the women's faces were any indication, they weren't buying a thing Alex said.  That was the downside of old childhood friends.

   Kendra grinned back at Cat.  "If it's anything, she took it on me word.  Me own fault for putting the thought in 'er head."

   Winn appreciated the effort, but everyone knew that she wouldn't have gone outside if she hadn't wanted to.  She sighed.  It looked as if she were headed back inside.  But, she had time and reason for one last defiance.  "Morgan-_Sparrow_.  I'm married."  She looked down at her belly.  "Very married, indeed."

****************************************

"Love, is something wrong?"

   "No, everything's fine, Jack.  Why do you ask?"

   Jack watched Winn's hand pointedly.  She looked down and stopped rubbing her overextended belly.  "You've been doing that a lot since mid-day.  Are you sure you're feeling up to dinner?  Cat would find no trouble in sendin' up a tray for us.  In fact, she'd most likely be overjoyed to do so."

   He was right, but that didn't mean that she was ready to do any such thing.  Her muscles were on edge.  Almost like she was preparing for a fight . . . not that that was something she could even consider at the moment.  "I'm fine, Jack.  Really.  I'm just a bit . . . edgy.  Probably from being cooped up for so long."

   "Don't cast lures for sympathy, Winnie.  Cat already told me about your earlier jailbreak.  I notice that Thompson is your preferred partner in crime."

   "What can I say, Jack?  Old habits die hard.  And we only walked to the garden."

   "Be that as it may, that's still farther than you're supposed to walk."

   "Jack," Winn said warningly.  Jack simply rolled his eyes in exasperation and held up his hands in defeat.

   "Won't say another word about it, love."

   "Thank you."  Winn turned back to what she was beginning to think of as her view – the gardens, a bit of the beach and bay, and the sky.  Sunset was drawing near.  "Let's go to dinner."  _If nothing else, I want to move around._

   Jack lent a hand as they walked the short distance to the dinning room.  The two seats closest to the entrance had been reserved from them ever since it'd been decreed that Winn was to start taking things even easier than she had been.  The couple took their seats, Winn talking with her family, Jack watching his wife.

   She was pale.  _She hasn't been outside for any length in months.  Of course she's pale._  Despite this reasoning, Jack had the nagging sensation that all was not quite right.  He hoped he was merely being paranoid.

   Halfway through the meal, Winn dropped her fork.  It clattered against her plate, bringing her to the center of attention.  Winn just smiled and said, "Clumsy fingers."  Conversation resumed, and the smile slipped.  Swallowing, Winn took a deep breath through her mouth.  She sincerely hoped that bolt of pain had been a one time occurrence.

   Kendra had been about to resume her rather agitated debate with Alex, but kept her eyes on Winn for a moment longer.  _Sparrow's concerned.  And . . . something isn't right with Winn._

   Jack noticed Winn's face and her rigid stance.  He was right.  Something was wrong.  "Winnie?"

   "I'm fine, Jack.  I . . . it's just –" she stopped as the pain came again.  Her hand gripped Jack's knee under the table as she bit back a moan.  _What's wrong now?_  Then there was a rush of fluid between her legs, and Winn realized what was happening.  "Jack, it's the baby, it's coming."  She felt Jack freeze beside her.  "No, Jack, you don't get to panic yet," she joked through the pain.  "I need you to tell Cat what's happening, and then let her decide what to do next.  I'd rather not distress everyone.  Can you do that?"

   Jack nodded and got up, going to the head of the table where Cat was sitting.  Kendra saw him murmur in the other woman's ear and narrowed her eyes.  _Something is definitely going on._  She glanced over at Alex, and saw that he had taken her long standing silence as defeat.  _Curses . . . let that go too long.  But one lost argument doesn't matter._  She sat up a bit taller and smiled at Winn, getting to her feet and walking over before noticing the fluid on the floor.  "Winn . . . what . . . ?" she lifted a bewildered gaze to Winn.  

   "Umm . . . don't worry.  It's natural.  It seems like my child is just a bit impatient, that's all.  Why should it be any different than its parents, right?"  The pain was getting worse, but Winn was determined to keep people from worrying as long as she could.  Joking helped.

   Kendra nodded numbly, really not sure what to do next.  She'd dealt with her share of  danger, but . . .never a birth.

   Oh, the pain was coming again.  It hurt, it hurt worse than when she'd had her labor induced.  This time she could tell that her body meant business.  Winn gasped.  "It's okay, love.  It's okay.  We're going to get you upstairs, alright?"  Winn nodded, grasping her husband's arms and trying to breath through the pain.  

   The moment she felt Jack beside her again, her mask collapsed.  It _hurt,_ and now that pain showed on her face.  Winn normally would have noticed her friend's uncertainty and tried to calm it, but she had other things on her mind, like how Jack was picking her up to take her upstairs. "Jack, it hurts."

   "I know, love.  I know.  But it'll be alright. You've your sisters here to help."

   Winn nodded, taking a deep breath as the pain faded.  "I'm sorry.  I'm trying to hold things together, really."

   "Don't apologize, love.  I think you have the right to be concerned."

   "I know.  It's just that . . . last time . . . ."

   Last time she and her child had almost died.

****************************************

"Just suck it up, Sparrow."  Kendra scowled up at Jack.  "You've dealt with skeletal pirates, Aztec curses, and even me as a cabin lad.  You can take your wife giving birth.  Winn's tough, and I know her sisters are good at what they do."  She paused.  "I'm sure it sounds worse than it really is."

   Another moan came from the couple's room.  "Easy for you to say – you've never been a father before."

   Kendra raised an eyebrow.  Jack in a tizzy really was a sight to behold.  "I'd hope not. Bein' a woman and all."

   Will decided to stick in his oar.  He'd never seen Jack so agitated, although he could relate to what the pirate was feeling.  "Jack, Kendra's right.  Winn's a strong woman.  She's had months to recover her strength.  She'll be alright.  Trust me – I've been through this twice already."

   "Winn had years of being fine, but that didn't stop her from almost dying the last time."

   Will and Kendra watched the pirate pace the floor.  Clearly he needed something to help keep his mind off his busy wife.  Kendra scowled, crossing her arms over her chest and glanced over at Will.  "How's the dinghy coming along?"

   Jack grumbled and Will shrugged.  Kendra sighed.  Will was going to be no help – he'd probably been too worried about Elizabeth to remember what people had said to him to help calm Jack's nerves.  And she'd never done this before.  She sighed and walked into Jack's path, blocking him.  "Out of my way, scamp."

   "Watch yer mouth, Sparrow.  It's Captain Ken, and you know it."

   "As long as you're in my way, I'll call you what I wish."  Despite his words, Jack turned and started pacing the way he'd come.  Kendra clenched her fists and let out an agitated breath, striding after Sparrow and punching him square in the arm. 

   Jack whirled, his weighted hair swirling like a cape.  He pulled back an arm to retaliate, but Will grabbed it.  Even the weathered pirate had a hard time breaking free of the young blacksmith.  "Traitors, both of ye," he muttered, letting his arm relax.  When Will let him go, he stalked over to an armchair and threw himself down in it.  "What I wouldn't do for a bit of rum right now."  Not that he would drink it – now more than ever he needed a clear head.

   Kendra looked to Will.  "Would ye help the man out?"

   Will nodded and left the room.  Kendra turned to Jack as soon as the other man was gone and said, "Now Sparrow, listen hard and listen well.  Winn's dealing with something neither one of us can really comprehend, and her entire pregnancy has been difficult."  Her eyes narrowed dangerously.  "You're her husband.  She looks to you for support.  Winn's strong, aye, but she _needs_ your support.  I know this is a terrifyin' experience for ye, but I would be sorely disappointed in you, and I'm quite sure Winn would too, if you can't pull yourself together.  Have a little faith in the woman in there.  She loves you.  And . . . you shouldn't let her down."

   "How can let her down if I can't even get into the room to let her know I'm supporting her!" he demanded.  "My wife is in there, letting out sounds alarming enough to chill the blood of sea demons, and I'm stuck in another room because it isn't 'proper' for me to be in there with her.  How am I supposed to lend my support if I can't even bloody _see_ her?"

   Kendra nodded.  "Then I'll see about you gettin' in there."  She went to the door and took a breath before slipping inside.  The sounds that Winn was making were sending chills down her own spine.  She saw . . . well, to tell the truth, she didn't see much except for a bunch of bustling women.  She moved farther into the room.  Elizabeth was sitting on the bed, holding Winn's hand and wiping her face with a cool cloth, but she seemed to be the only one doing anything to help Winn.  Grace and Cat were busy arranging basins, and towels, and such.  Every now and then, one of them would check on the progress of things, but other than that, they weren't doing much.

   Taking a breath to keep herself calm, Kendra walked up to Cat and crossed her arms.  "Is this all you can do for Winn?  What's going on?"

   Cat turned to the small pirate.  "We're doing what we can, but there isn't much to do until the child decides to make an appearance."

   "And all that hollerin' she's doing?  That's normal?"  Cat and Grace exchanged a look.  Kendra didn't like that look.  She kept her voice low, but her agitation was obvious.  "Spill it.  Or else I let Sparrow in."  This being besides the point; she was planning on helping him get in anyways.

   Cat waited for another of Winn's groans to die down before answering.  "Her contractions are coming with far more regularity than is normal for this early on in labor.  They should be coming no more than every ten or twelve minutes, and then slowly grow closer together over a matter of hours.  But . . . but Winn's body seems to have panicked.  It must remember the last time this happened, and it's trying to force the babe out before it's ready to be born.  And if the babe doesn't cooperate, Winn will soon grow too tired to deliver the child."

   "And is there a reason you couldn't come tell me this?" Jack demanded.  "That's _my_ wife and _my_ child, if you haven't noticed.  How long were you plannin' on waitin' before informing me of this?"

   Kendra didn't bother to look back at Jack.  "Then . . . then Winn could die?" she whispered to herself.

   "Jack . . ." Cat threw a sharp look at Kendra as she drew herself up to her full height which nearly rivaled Jack's.  "We didn't come tell you because we have nothing definite to tell you as of yet.  We didn't want to worry you unnecessarily."  Cat let some of the authority drop from her voice as she addressed Kendra.  "Winn's not going to die.  Not if we can help it."

   Kendra squared her shoulders and fought back the fear that was beginning to drown her other senses.  "Anything I can do?"

   "We could use some more water," Elizabeth volunteered.  Kendra nodded and went down to the kitchen to fetch some from the pump.  "And I need to check on my children.  And the rest of them while I'm at it.  Jack, will you come take over for me?"  Cat and Grace both opened their mouths to protest, but Elizabeth stopped them.  "He's a pirate."  She winked at Jack.  "What use do pirates have for propriety?  Besides, can either of you say that your husbands stayed out of your birthroom when your firstborns were on their way?"  Both women shook their heads and Elizabeth smiled.  "Why break with tradition then?"  She got up and Jack gave her a curt nod of appreciation before taking a seat next to Winn.

   "Winnie?  Love?"  He stroked some hair out of his wife's face.  "Want to look at me, or are you mad at me at the moment?"

   "Jack?"  Winn opened her eyes.  "What are you doing in here?  It's not proper."

   "Love, that argument has already been made.  As you can see," he kissed her forehead, "it didn't make much impact.  Would you prefer if I left you to your business, love?"

   Winn shook her head, whimpering as another contraction took her mind off Jack.  "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts," she hissed.  Jack saw how her knuckles were turning white as she gripped the bedclothes.  The moment she relaxed her death grip, he replaced the sheets with his hand.

   "You're doin' a fine job, love.  And I'm here for as long as you need me."  Winn nodded, and sunk into the bed.  Jack watched as she had another contraction not five minutes later.  She sat up as the pain hit.  When she moved the lay back down, he inserted himself behind her, supporting her back with his chest.  "There, love.  Not so much work now."

   Kendra rushed back into the room, hauling two large pails of water, setting them down on the floor beside Jack.  "That should more than cover it."  Jack barely even acknowledged this declaration, instead wetting the cloth Elizabeth had been using.  He tenderly wiped the sweat from his wife's face, whispering in her ear.  Kendra watched for a moment, smiling softly.  _Never thought I'd see Sparrow like this . . . I guess at times he's tolerable.  With him here, and Cat and everyone else . . . she'll make it.  Winn's a tough one.  No need to worry just yet._  She slowly backed up, not wanting to disturb the two.    

   Winn fed off her husband's presence, letting him take over the job of supporting her.  His words stayed with her even as she faced the pain.  When she murmured her fears to him, he calmed them, assuring her that she would be fine, that their child would be healthy and beautiful, that he hadn't come back from the dead to give up on her now.  She swallowed these words in almost the same way that she swallowed water from the glass he held to her lips.  Now, if only he could give her his strength in the same way he shared his confidence and peace. . . .

****************************************

To both mother and expecting father, it seemed as if things had been dragging on for days.  In reality it was only nearing dawn before the babe decided it was ready to make its way into the world. 

   Winn was growing exhausted, almost too tired to notice the pain anymore.  Her entire body was coated in sweat, her hair was a mess, and she was sure she'd never looked worse in her entire life.  That was all topped off by the fact that her husband was still holding her and still talking to her constantly even though his voice was starting to grow hoarse.  She decided that she was never going to go through this again, and that wouldn't be a problem because whenever Jack looked at her after this, he'd remember what a mess she'd been and not find her appealing at all.

   Jack on the other hand, was battling his own doubts.  Things had gone on for so long without any progress.  Winn was lying limply in his arms.  How much longer could she take this before she did as Cat had said, and lost the strength to see their babe safely into the world?  What would the cost be?  How would he pay it?

   "Jack?  Cat?"  Winn's voice wavered.  "I . . . I think something's happening.  I feel . . . different."

   Cat came over to the bed.  Grace had just retired for a bit of a break.  Discreetly, she raised the hem of Winn's nightshirt.  Jack averted his eyes and looked into his wife's face, murmuring endearments and assurances and memories.  Whatever it took to get her through this.  Cat seemed to think that Winn was right, for she called for Kendra.

   Kendra jerked up from her position leaning against the wall and hurried over, looking ruffled.  "Aye?  What can I do?"

   Cat went over to the shorter woman.  "Go down the hall and get Grace."  She kept her voice low enough that the couple on the bed paid her no attention.  "I want her here just in case."

   "Aye, aye."  Kendra nodded and slunk out, running down the hall and knocking on Grace's door.  "Grace?  You in there?"

   "Yes.  Just a moment."  Grace appeared at the door, her husband behind her.  "Has the babe decided to stop giving its mother such a hard time?"

   "Not sure . . ." Kendra did her best to keep her nerves calm.  "Cat just told me to get you . . . just in case."

   Grace nodded, turned and whispered something to her husband, kissed him on the cheek, and then followed Kendra back to Winn's room.  Kendra resumed her spot on the wall and nodded at Cat.

   Cat smiled, then turned back to Winn.  "Com'on Freddy.  I know you're tired, but you need to push.  Your nestling has finally decided it wants to hatch, but it needs some help from Momma."  Winn grimaced, but tried to do as she was told.  Jack met Cat's eyes as Winn struggled.  There was precious little strength left in her body.  "Freddy, the next time a contraction comes, I want you to push down.  You have to wait for a contraction, otherwise it won't do any good, alright?" 

   Winn nodded as her heart sank.  The waves of pain were still coming, but they were nothing like the ones that she'd had earlier.  It was like comparing gentle summer waves to brutal winter ones.  But one came, and she clamped down on it, squeezing Jack's hand as she pushed.  If it was the last thing she did, she was going to see this child safe.  She'd failed the others.  She'd almost failed this one earlier.  She wouldn't fail now.  She _couldn't_ fail now.

   "Good, good Winn.  I can see the head.  Another few pushes like that and you'll have your son or daughter."

   _More?_  She had to do that again?  She gasped for air as her heart thudded in her chest.  What did she have left to push with?  "Jack, I can't do it.  I can't."

   "Shh, love.  Yes you can.  I know you can.  You don't give up, you don't give in, and you don't turn your back on the helpless.  I'm here.  Tell me what to do to help, and I'll do it."

   "Keep talking.  Please keep talking."  She could hear another wave coming.  She waited for it, holding onto the sound of Jack's voice like a drowning woman to a rope, and pushed when the wave crested.  Somewhere someone was telling her she was doing a good job, but she couldn't hear it over the sound of Jack's voice, and even that was having a hard time making itself known over the buzzing in her ears.  She opened her eyes and grey dots danced in her vision.  She was exhausted.  Another wave was coming.

   Kendra watched with an expression that was a mixture of awe and horror.  _This_ was childbirth?  And Winn looked so very tired. . . .  _Come on, Winn.  You can do it.  Just a little longer.  I didn't do all this work to see you die on me . . . come on Winn.  _Kendra clenched a fist and did her best to swallow down her fear, only to find more billow up within her.  _Winn can go through all of this . . . I can fight back a little fear for her life.  She's tough . . . she's a Morgan.  She'll make it._

   "Winnie, you're almost there, love.  Just be stubborn for a little longer and then you can rest with our child in your arms.  Just one last push, love.  One more."

   "Is that . . . is that a . . . a promise?"  Winn was gasping for breath, reminding Jack all too vividly of those first dreadful hours after they'd known she'd been poisoned.

   "Yes, love.  And if it's not enough, then I'll take over."

   "I'm . . . I'm holding you . . . to that . . . Sparrow."

   "I wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it."

   Winn made an disbelieving sound that quickly turned into a groan.  Jack felt her entire body tense, then felt her muscles slam down.  He knew without seeing her face that she'd just used the last of her strength.  _Please let that have been enough.  Please._

   When he heard Cat's triumphant cry, he knew it had been.  He relaxed, hugging Winn to him.  "You did it, Winnie.  You're done.  The work is done, love."

   Kendra finally began to breath more easily, having felt her own body tense as the minutes of agony had slowly ticked on.  "A Sparrowling is born," she smiled to herself.

   Jack, pirate though he was, kept his eyes on his wife's face as the women finished their work.  Cat came over with a swaddled bundle in her arms.  "Well, I think the two of you need to meet your daughter."

   Kendra listened carefully and smiled.  "A lass."

   Jack just stared in disbelief.  A daughter. 

_   "What do you want it to be?"_   Winn's voice had been hesitant.

He'd looked into Winn's eyes and seen all her fears there._  "I want a little girl who is every bit as headstrong and courageous as her mother.  I want to worry about what she's getting up to next and what danger she's courting along the way.  I want a dark-haired fury whom I can hand over to you when she's throwing a tantrum so you know how I've felt often enough in the past."_  Cat placed the small bundle in Winn's arms, but Winn didn't move to take it.  "Winnie?"  Surely she wasn't too tried to hold their daughter. "Winnie?"  She didn't stir.

********************************************************

**A/N 2: I know, I'm evil.  Next chapter up on Saturday.**

**Author's Thanks:**  these are combined thanks for chapters 32 & 33.

**bobo3**** – **gotta love some cute scenes, especially before I rip out one like this.  Scandalous Elizabeth?  The woman is outspoken and I saw no problem with her saying such things in front of her friends, although if she'd known that Jack had heard that comment, I'm sure she would have turned as red as a turnip.  Or a radish.  Turnips are really . . . I've no idea what color they are, actually.  Now you've stumped me.  I have to go.  ^_^

**nebber**** – **ah!  New reviewer.   You can rock the teddy bear I got for Valentine's Day.  Thanks for the compliments, although I'm still sure that my plots are easily predictable.  But that's probably only because I know what's going to happen.  ^_^  Glad you liked 'Inconvenient' and that you're enjoying this one.

**Kontara**** – **nice.  Gotta love commitment like that.  I'm glad that you liked chapter 32 so much.  I got to the point where I needed Gandolfi to die, but when I got there, I couldn't make Jack kill him.  No matter that Jack felt like he had to to protect his family, I couldn't do it and keep the man in character.  And part of my reasoning on that was expressed by Jack.

**Golden Rose3 – **boy, aren't you an impatient little thing?  ^_^  

**NightSkyFlight**** – **thanks.  I try to get things up quickly and not keep you waiting.  Lashings?  Well, I have to admit to not being a very bloodthirsty writer myself, and to appreciating the humor that came before this chapter, and that was so much fun to read.

**Siremaik**** – '**wheee' to you too.  ^_^

**Piper8188**** – **umm, I'm sure Cat had things to say about Kendra's real identity, but she knew that wasn't the time to say them, and she didn't tell me what she wanted to say, so that's that.

**Lila Elensar – **no, Jack building boats isn't good, but he needed to keep busy.  Hallington's punishment was all bobo3's doing.  I had nothing to do with it, although I do agree that she's a genius.  

**Breeze –** I'll pass along your comments on Kendra to bobo3

**Dawnie****-7 – **Jack would need to be something of a carpenter.  He lives on a boat made of wood.  Not sure how good he is at building a boat from scratch though.  Guess we'll find out eventually.

**lilitaliandragon**** – **you're about to kill me, aren't you?

**Curiosity Inc. – **I hope this is enough of a climax for you.  I did have something up my sleeve for Jack and Co. to overcome before I truly end the story, and this is it.

**KamikazeCreamPuff**** – **oh, don't worry.  I have plans for the _Pearl__._  *rubs hands*  Jack wouldn't be Jack without his ship, and I have no intention on keeping him away from it forever.

**Pendragginink**** – **that was one of the most thorough reviews that I've ever had the pleasure to read.  It was wonderful.  It's always good to know that I'm portraying people correctly, especially since I've no idea what I'm doing.  There's a writer's adage I'm sure you've heard – write what you know.  Well, that's gone out the window.  I've never been pregnant, never had kids, and never truly been in love.  But I can write it apparently, and that's good to know.

**KawaiiRyu**** – **yes, I'm afraid that I have changed Jack a bit, but that's what happens when you continue on with a character.  I can't wait until PotC 2 comes out so I have a new Jack to work with.  But I am trying to make this incarnation of Jack believable, and I'm glad it's working.  I home things at home are going better for you.  I know how stressful that can be.

**pirate-miss**** – **I'm glad to have Jack and Winn together again too, although, *looks at story* apparently I wasn't afraid of . . . making certain people suffer more.  I did say this was going to be a drama.

**Alli**** – **again, thank you for that complement.  It's inevitable that Jack change a bit, no matter who is writing or portraying him.  I bet there were changes that happened just from what the scriptwriters wrote and what Johnny Depp changed the character into.  If I've managed to change him more without anyone noticing and getting upset, then I am truly honored.

**Eledhwen**** – **thank you.  Never been pregnant myself, but I did manage to do some homework.  Glad it paid off.

**Clover the Sea-Beast – **yes, a sequel coming, all about the little Sparrow daughter.  First I'm combining forces with bobo3 to write a collaboration, but then I'll be back with more of my characters.  I'm looking forward to writing an action adventure.

**BlueTrinity**** – **as much as I appreciate the suggestion for Hallington and the sentiment behind it, I would like to keep my PG-13 rating.  Not to mention that I've never been one to read or write such things.  As for Alex and Kendra . . . bobo3 and I are definitely cooking.

**jigglykat**** – **feeling much better.  That first day or so is awful though.  Not to mention I was also coming down with a cold.  Real life sucks sometimes.  ^_^  And I'll pass along your complements to bobo3 since she's the one who came up with that ingenious plan.

**VagrantCandy**** – **not to mention that public humiliation works ever so much better on him than kidnapping would.  He'll be steaming about that for years.  Just wait until he learns that Jack's not dead.  Too bad we won't be able to see that reaction.

**SuzzieQue**** – **I'm glad you're taking the time to read her story.  It's good stuff, that's why I jumped at the chance to work with her.


	35. May it Be

**Author's Note at the end of the chapter.**

***************************************************************

   Grace quietly said to Kendra,  "Will you please go get Elizabeth?  We're going to need her help."

   She jerked her eyes away from Sparrow and Winn, then nodded.  "On the double." Kendra hurried out the door and sighed.  _The errand lad once again. . . . _ Once she reached Will and Elizabeth's room she knocked and sighed to herself. 

   Elizabeth immediately appeared at the door, took one look at Kendra, and smiled.  "Boy or girl?"

   "Lass, but you're being summoned."  Kendra gently grabbed Elizabeth's arm and started pulling her along.  "No time to waste."

   They left the hall to Will's quiet laughter.  But it was not laughter that met them when they returned to the birth-room.  What met them was a carefully composed Grace who handed over the girl-child.  "I think it's time that the babe receive her first wash."  When Kendra tried to go into the room again, Grace gently denied her entrance.  "I think it'd be best if you went with Elizabeth, or perhaps went and told Marcus the news.  Winn's exhausted, and needs her rest."  Grace closed the door.  

   Why did she get the feeling that not all was as well as it was supposed to be?  Kendra looked to Elizabeth.  "I'll see you in a bit."  Turning around once more, she hurried down the hall.  _For the fourth bleedin' time. . . ._  She rapped on Marcus' door and glared at it.  _I'm being left out of something, I know it.  Winn was lookin' so pale and tired and –_

   Marcus opened the door.  His bleary eyes focused on Kendra.  "What's happened?  The baby was finally born?  Or did something else happen that deserves that scowl?"

   She jerked her head up and softened her harsh expression.  "It's a girl . . . but . . ." she looked to the door.  "I think something's not right.  I was told to tell you the news, but I have the feeling they're simply keeping me out of sight."

   "And you'd like me to pry some information from my wife."  Marcus yawned.  "Why do you think something isn't right?"

   Kendra looked up at Marcus, barely able to keep the fear out of her voice.  "Winn . . . she was extremely weak.  And the whole feel of the room was tense.  When they sent me out . . . she wasn't moving . . . didn't look right."

   _Oh lord,_ Marcus thought, remembering the trouble their mother had had after Winn's birth.  She'd stayed in bed for days and he remembered that he and his brothers had been kept out of the room, unaware that birth was sometimes so close to death.  _Haven't Winn and Jack suffered enough through all this?_  "Someone will need to watch the children, I can't –"

   "I'll watch them uncle Marcus."  Kendra jerked her gaze over to see Bella behind her.   Bella was mature for her age, having grown up with so many younger siblings and cousins around all the time.  As the oldest, she'd learned early on how to manipulate the younger ones into doing what she wanted, and she was old enough now to take on responsibilities that adults had to neglect to make sure that all remained right in her small world.  "If something's wrong with aunt Winn, then you need to find out."

   Marcus laid a hand on his niece's shoulder.  He knew her temperament and that she'd rather be going with him than watching her cousins.  "Thank you, Bella.  If your cousins ask, I just went to see if I could help Grace."

   "Alright."

   Marcus turned to Kendra and took her elbow as they went down the hall.  "Where are you bound for?"

   "I'll be helping Elizabeth with the babe.  Her first wash or something."

   They reached the door to Winn and Jack's room.  "Thank you for coming to get me.  Ry won't be back until the day after tomorrow."  He shook his head.  "I can't believe this is happening."  _Out of all the other things we worried about, we never worried about this. Or at least I didn't.  _"You've been a good friend to Winn.  It'll comfort her to know that you and Elizabeth are looking after her child."

   Kendra nodded curtly in acknowledgement, then the two parted ways.

****************

"How's it going, Elizabeth?"

   "Oh, well, the little Sparrow here is ever so much more cooperative than her parents.  She hasn't so much as cried yet, and I know she must be hungry."  It was true; the baby was looking around the room seriously, with big, dark eyes.  "We'll have to take care of that in a moment."  Despite her words, Elizabeth's face was strained with worry.

   Kendra peered curiously at the child.  "So . . . how do you feed it . . . er . . . her?"

   "Well, there's some glass bottles around here somewhere and some leather nipples, and we'll give this little lady some cow milk.  If Winn's . . ." Elizabeth's voice cracked; she cleared her throat.  "If Winn's going to be out of commission for a bit, we'll have to find a wet nurse."  Elizabeth wrapped her best friend's daughter in a soft blanket, then looked at Kendra.  "I'm going to need you to hold her while I fix the bottle.  The milk will need to be heated and I'm going to have to search for where Cat keeps her baby supplies."

   "All right . . ." Kendra hesitantly put out her arms.  "I . . . I just don't know how to hold a baby.  This is the first one I've seen up close."

   Elizabeth held back any exclamations of disbelief, remembering both Jack's first experience with a baby and that the woman before her had been raised on a pirate ship.  "Well, if it'll make you more comfortable, we'll sit you down at the table.  Don't worry.  Holding a baby is a great deal like holding a very delicate bag of flour."  Elizabeth guided Kendra for the table and had her take a seat.  Then she knelt down on the floor and leaned over.  "See how I have my arms supporting her body and head?  I want you to arrange your arms in the same manner."  She watched critically as Kendra did as she was told.  "No raise your right arm a bit.  Okay, that's good."  Kendra didn't mention that she felt like an idiot.  "Now, I'm going to slide the little lady into your arms and then that's all you'll have to do.  Ready?"

   "Ready as I'll e'er be."  Kendra looked hesitantly at the small bundle she was soon to be holding.

   Elizabeth positioned Kendra's arms so the baby had a bit more of a cradle to lay in.  "There you go.  Just don't squeeze her too hard or press the top of her head.  Her bones are still soft."  

   Kendra nodded and watched the little Sparrowling with wide eyes.  "She's . . . so small."

   "A good thing too.  Winn was having a hard enough time. . . ." Elizabeth let the sentence trail off as she busied herself with preparing a bottle.  

   Kendra busied herself with studying the small person.  The child had a shock of dark hair that was very fine and standing straight up, giving the impression of feathers.  She had eyes as dark as her father's, and tiny hands that were formed into fists.  "All this trouble. . . ." Kendra smiled at the girl, "You better be a good daughter."  Kendra continued to smile and ignored the twinge that came as she thought of her lack of parents. _Doesn't matter.  It's in the past.  There's no reason to worry about it._  "Wonder if I was ever this small," Kendra mumbled, grinning broader.

   The babe started to squirm a little and Kendra tensed, barely fighting back the instinct to use brute force to still the child.  Elizabeth's warning was still fresh in her memory and she was not about to kill a child . . . especially Winn and Jack's.  "Shh, lass . . . just . . . just . . ."  Kendra glanced at her hand and slid it over a little, holding her pinky over the girl's face, just to see what would happen.  The babe's eyes focused on it, watching as Kendra moved it back and forth.  She smirked, and wiggled her finger.  _Amazing.  I never knew babes were so . . . engrossing.  _"Now . . . can ye grab it, lass?"  Kendra lowered her pinky within reach of the child's hand and wiggled it some more.  The girl moved her arm, the entire thing held out stiffly.  Her fingers fidgeted, but didn't quite open.

   "She's still a little young for that."  Kendra looked up at Elizabeth quizzically.  "Give her another week to exercise her muscles and she'll be holding on tighter than you'd think possible."

   Kendra nodded and felt embarrassment wash over her.  "Oh . . . I . . . she was just starting to move and –" Kendra stopped talking and instead resumed wiggling her finger and kept her eyes on the child. 

   "No, it's alright.  It's okay to play with her.  If she's not howling, then she's probably having fun."

   "That's good," Kendra smiled weakly.  "How's the milk coming?"

   "It'll be warm enough in a moment.  And then you can feed the little nestling."  Elizabeth smiled at the stricken look on Kendra's face.  "Consider it part of your continuing education."

   Kendra flushed and stumbled over her words.  "I . . . I ne'er signed up for this.  Besides . . . I'll ne'er need to know how to feed a . . . babe."  

  "That's what Winn thought."

   Kendra narrowed her eyes and took a breath.  "Well, Winn's actually recognized as a woman on a regular basis."  Kendra smiled at the child.  "But I don't think this lass will have my problem. . . ."

****************

   Winn had yet to open her eyes.  Jack, even with the little he knew about childbirth, knew this wasn't normal.  She'd used too much strength, or things had gone on too long, or she'd been too weak.  "What's wrong?" he whispered as he held the body of his wife. She was still breathing; he could feel her heartbeat.  She was still alive.

   "Jack.  Jack, look at me."  Jack looked up from the pale and exhausted face of his wife. Cat was kneeling on the floor in front of him, a smear of blood across one temple where she'd tried to brush some hair out of her face.  She took one of Jack's hands in hers.  "I need you to listen to me carefully.  Winn's lost a lot of blood.  Her water broke too soon and she fought too long to deliver your daughter.  Your child is fine, but Winn's body is too exhausted to complete the process.  Her contractions are too weak to expel the afterbirth, and unless it comes out, she'll bleed to death."

   Jack looked at Cat, trying to follow what she was saying.  Had he gained a daughter to lose his wife?  He'd promised Winn that wouldn't happen.  "What are you saying?"

   "Unless things turn around in the next half hour, we're going to have to . . . hurry things along, much in the same way you would a farm animal that was suffering the same thing.  We're going to need you to stay and hold Winn down for us.  This is going to hurt, but unless it's done, she'll bleed herself dry, and none of us want to see that."

   Jack nodded, understanding.  He hated to see Winn in pain, but if that's what it took to save her, he'd do it.  "Com'on, Winnie.  Don't give up on me now, love."  The sun rose, pale and chilly, reminding everyone that the new year had come a week previously.  Jack sincerely hoped that he'd have the opportunity to greet the coming new year with his wife and daughter at his side.

****************

   "Jack."  Several hours had passed since the sun had risen, and Will had been voted the one to go in and try to talk to Jack as he maintained his vigil.  "Jack?"

   Jack didn't respond to the voice calling his name.  All his attention was focused on his wife.  Things had developed so that Grace and Cat had had to . . . he couldn't even think about it.  He was just glad that Winn had remained unconscious throughout the ordeal.  And now she was lying silently in a room not her own because their bed was a mess, and the bed dwarfed her, the clean white sheets bleeding their paleness into her skin.  She was still breathing, but she hadn't once woken since dawn.  It was now past noon.

   "Jack.  You need to eat something.  You need to see your daughter.  She's still without a name and Elizabeth leads me to believe this is an outrageous oversight."  Will looked at his friend who was still unresponsive.  "Jack?"  He laid a hand on the pirate's arm, watching in case the pirate objected to the contact.  "Jack, you can't keep this up.  You haven't gotten any sleep, you haven't gotten any food –"

   "She needs me."  The pirate's voice was quiet.  "I told her I wouldn't leave her.  I told her I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

   "If she were awake, Winn would be the first to tell you to take care of yourself."

   "But she's not awake, is she?" he demanded.  "I can't leave her, lad, not to eat.  I don't dare go to sleep for fear she'll slip away while I'm not paying attention."  The shoulder under Will's hand convulsed.  "You don't understand.  I have to be here when she wakes up."

   "And your daughter?"  No answer.  "Your daughter needs a father just as your wife needs a husband.  Let me bring her up."  Still nothing.  "Winn will want to see her when she wakes up."  This was no time for the word 'if.'  

   "You're right," Jack turned from his wife for a moment.  "Yes."

   Will disappeared downstairs and came back up with a tray of food, the child, and Kendra.  The small pirate had grown comfortable holding the child, and even scowled at those who tried to take the girl away from her.  She nodded at Sparrow.  "How's Winn?" she asked softly.

   "Sleeping."  Jack tried a lopsided grin – it came out as a grimace.  "I see you've got your hands full."

   "Aye, and she's a cute bundle at that," Kendra walked over to stand next to Jack, tipping the dozing child's face up a bit for Jack to see her better.  "She's got your eyes if I'm not mistaken."

   Jack looked into the small face.  Said eyes opened as she was shifted.  It was true – the pair of dark eyes staring back up at him were a match of his own – except for the kohl.  He reached out to take the babe from Kendra, and she let him, although she felt a whisper of regret.  "Just . . . be careful with 'er head. . . ." Kendra let her voice trail off.

   Jack smiled.  He remembered hearing the same warning from Elizabeth, Grace, Richard, and Cat.  They'd all told him the same thing.  Winn was the only one who'd ever just sat by and let him make his own way.  "So I've heard."  He was used to holding children by now, confident enough to hold his daughter – _his daughter_ – in one arm while he brushed the feathery locks around her head.  Will and Kendra watched as Jack engaged in the same activities that all new parents do; brushing fingertips over soft skin, counting fingers.  _Winnie . . . our daughter is beautiful._

   Kendra swallowed down her twinges of anxiety.  _She's his daughter.  Besides . . . I shouldn't interrupt this moment.  It's the first time he's held her . . . I've had her all morning._  So Kendra forced a smile and walked a few feet off, watching him jealously.  It was strange to watch the pirate with a small child in his arms.  Kendra considered speaking, but couldn't find the right words, so she crossed her arms over her chest and picked at her shirt.  She needed something pass the time.  Watching Jack only made her long to hold the child again – a desire she desperately wanted to ignore.  When Will plucked at her sleeve and tilted his head towards the door, Kendra was grateful for the opportunity to leave.

   Jack never noticed that he was left alone with his wife and child.  He was so engrossed in his study of the life that he and his wife had created that he never noticed when Winn's eyes slowly opened.  He never noticed the small smile that graced her lips at the sight of him being a typical new father, never noticed when Winn fell out of her exhausted sleep and into the sleep of someone gathering strength to face a new day.

****************

Winn opened her eyes to find that she was standing inside a small house.  She looked around to find that it was furnished sparsely, but comfortably.  One wall was nothing but windows overlooking a garden and a familiar bay.  The other three were covered in maps and artwork that looked to be hers.  She had no idea where this place was, but she knew she felt comfortable here.

   "You've been longing for your own home for awhile now, haven't you?"

   Winn turned from her study of her surroundings to find that she was being addressed by the same urchin that'd slipped into her dreams before.  "Who are you?" she asked.  "What is this place?"

   "You know who I am.  And you know what this place is."  The child smiled at her.  "This is your home."

   "I have a home," she protested, but even as she said that, the longing to stay here grew.  She had a family, and she was welcome in _their_ homes, but the child was right.  With the birth of her child growing nearer and nearer, she'd been wishing for someplace with a bit more privacy.  A bit more quiet.  Someplace that was totally _hers._  The nesting instinct was running strong, especially since she was going to be spending a great deal of time on land once she had her child.  This was nice, although small.  Not that she would need a lot of room once Jack had his _Pearl_back.

   "He's waiting for you."  Winn looked to her miniature visitor.  "He's waiting for you to wake up and assure him that all will be well."

   "I will . . . it's just . . . did I let you down?"  This was her child, or a representation of the children she'd lost, and she needed to know.  "Was there anything I could have done?"

   "No.  What happened was no one's fault.  But keep an eye out – just because you never met me, doesn't mean you won't."  The dream broke up before Winn could ask what the child meant.  "Tell your daughter hello for me."

****************

Winn opened her eyes as the sun rose the next morning.  She felt incredibly tired still, but was unable to sleep any longer.  She had a husband, a daughter, and a life waiting for her.  For months now, she'd been dwelling on the past – seemingly caught within her own thoughts and recriminations – but it was time to put those behind her.  

   Glancing away from the rising sun, she saw something that made all the emotional turmoil of the past months disappear like a wisp of fog in the noonday sun.  Her dream was forgotten as she smiled fondly at the dark head and mass of unruly hair resting on the bed near her waist.  Jack had refused to leave her side, something which made her heart melt.  Instead of waking him – he'd been up most the day and night unless she missed her guess – she simply rested her hand on his head, and gently worked her fingers through his hair.  She'd have to wake him eventually.  She was starting to feel uncomfortably full, a sure sign that she needed to feed her child, but for now she let the exhausted father sleep.

   The door slowly opened.  Winn wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been awake.  For the first time she realized that she was not in her own room, and felt a bit of confusion, confusion she put aside when she saw who was at the door.

   "Look who's finally awake," Elizabeth commented, keeping her voice low when she saw that Jack was still asleep.  "I'll have to raise the alarm.  Cat and Grace finally went to bed, thinking you'd spend some more time asleep."

   Winn shook her head.  "I'm tired – incredibly so – but I thought that it might be a good idea to calm any fears for my health."  She looked at Jack, then back at Elizabeth.  "Lizzy?  I had a girl, right?"

   "Yes.  A beautiful, perfect, surprisingly even-tempered girl.  Would you like me to go retrieve the little nestling?"

   "Nestling?"

   Elizabeth shrugged.  "I'm afraid that no one has taken the time to name her yet.  The men are starting to call her a fledging, your sisters prefer 'chick,' but I think nestling suits as well.  I'll be right back."

   Winn had to wait less than three minutes before Elizabeth was back with a sleeping child in her arms.  "If I didn't know better, I'd say the child is a changeling.  She hasn't so much as raised a fuss yet, and we all know she's had the right to."  Elizabeth handed the child over to its mother.

   Winn was stunned.  The little body in her arms was so small, so warm, so indescribably perfect.  And she was waking up, rooting about at the front of Winn's nightgown.  "Hungry, are we?"

   Elizabeth smiled.  "I'll leave you to it, then."  She placed a friendly kiss on Winn's forehead, then left the room, closing the door silently behind her.

   Winn didn't know how long she stared down at the little form that was the proof of nine months of angst and frustration and of four years of love before that.  All she knew was that at one point she was watching her hungry child while her husband slept, and then she had looked up to find Jack's eyes trained on her.  Her breath caught at the look in his eyes – it was so close to desire, yet it was something else entirely.  Something she didn't have a name for.  She kept her eyes trained on his as he stood and bent over her, but couldn't deny the compulsion to close them as he kissed her, sweetly but intensely.  Her daughter was all but forgotten as Winn reveled in the flood of love and relief she felt radiating out from Jack.  His hand stroked her cheek, slipped into her hair, and moved to caress her skull as he pulled back, staring down at her.  Neither said anything about how easily things could have turned out unhappily, they simply looked down at their daughter, both with a sense of wonder.

   Jack stroked the child's face, and she turned towards his finger as much as she could without disrupting her meal.  "We should name her," he said quietly.

   Winn nodded, settling more comfortably into the pillows propping her up.  They'd never really discussed what they were going to name their baby, both seeming to think that once they it, they'd know what the name should be.  The only matter that'd been settled had been the child's last name.  It had been decided that the child would carry both their last names – Sparrow for the time they were on the sea and amongst disreputable people in the hopes that the name would give her more protection than notoriety, and Morgan for the time when Winn spent time in 'respectable' society with her friends and family.   Now all that mattered was a first name, and perhaps a middle.  "What name were you thinking of?" she asked.

   Jack shrugged.  "Not a bird name," he said.  "That's my only request."

   "But Jack, don't you want her to fit in with her cousins?"  Jack simply looked at her inquisitively.  "Don't tell me that you've never noticed that every child in this family has a bird middle name," she said in a incredulous voice.  Jack shrugged again.  "Jack Sparrow.  How can you call yourself a pirate captain if you're that oblivious to something like that?"

   "I was focused on other things at the time, I'm sure.  Like getting you back to the _Pearl__._"

   Winn rolled her eyes, but a faint blush stained her cheeks.  She reached over to squeeze his hand, but stopped short when he winced.  "What is it?" she asked.  "What's wrong with your hand?"  She looked down to see that his hand was bruised.  "What did you do?"

   Jack grinned mischievously.  "Don't be asking what I did, love.  You should be asking yourself what _you_ did."

   "I did not do that."

   "Yes you did, Winnie.  I'm afraid that you were rather adamant about gripping my head while you were busy with our chick."  He cut off further protestations by saying, "Shouldn't we decide on a name now?"

   Winn thought a moment, then said, "Meredith.  Meredith Wren."  She looked at her husband.  "Is that alright?"

   Jack kissed her on the forehead.  "That's perfect."  He remembered the gift he'd gotten for Winn some months before.  "Wait here, I'll be right back."  He went into their room and retrieved the small package from a dresser drawer, bringing it back and handing it to Winn.  "Here you go, love."

   Winn examined it for several moments before tearing the paper off the small box.  She then examined the boxy, playing with the lid, but not opening it.  "Go on, love.  It's not going to bite."

   Winn smiled, and took the lid off the small package, a gasp of surprise escaping her when she saw what was inside.  It was a necklace.  A study silver chain supported a small nest made out of silver filigree.  Inside the nest were three egg-shaped pearls; one white, one black, and one peach colored.  "Oh . . . Jack," she whispered.  "It's beautiful."  Jack took it from her, quickly fastening the clasp behind her neck.  "Thank you," she breathed, leaning in for another kiss.  A kiss that was interrupted by the small burp that erupted from the angelic looking daughter in Winn's arms.

   Mother and father laughed, then lavished attention on the small bundle.

****************

It took several weeks for Winn to recover entirely, weeks that were frustrating for everyone.  Now that she was several pounds lighter, she fought the imposed inactivity tooth and nail.  The only reason she stayed in bed for a week was because her head swum anytime she tried to get up before that.  But by the second week, she was hobbling around the house, even if she didn't go downstairs without assistance.  By the end of the third week, she was close to total recovery, walking around the entire house, Meredith in her arms and Pige following behind her anxiously.

   On Meredith's one month birthday, Jack slipped out of 'boat duty' – said boat being nearly completed – to spend some the day with his wife and daughter.  Instead of finding Winn inside the house painting, or drawing, or reading, or nursing, or chatting with the other females – which now drastically outweighed the men of the house – he found her outside, tending her garden despite the fact that few things were growing, since it was February.  Meredith was bundled up and laying in a basket, sound asleep as Winn pulled weeds.  "What are you doing, Winnie?"

   Winn looked over her shoulder from her position on her knees.  "Weeding.  It'll be March before we know it and I need to get all these dead plants out of the beds before then.  It should have been done in September or November, but we were all occupied with other things at the time."

   Jack's hopes of a peaceful afternoon faded, but he didn't necessarily mind.  He was used to changing plans at the last moment, and now was no exception.  He'd gotten a message from Gibbs saying that the _Black Pearl_ was near completion and that he'd be sailing into Osprey Point's harbor by mid-March.  There was something he wanted to share with Winn before then.  Before he had to resume the reigns of a pirate captain . . . at least part time.

   He approached his wife and pulled her gently to her feet.  "I've something I want to show you, love."  Winn looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion on her face, but she left her gardening for the time being, stooping down to pick up the basket Meredith was sleeping in.  Jack stopped her, picking his daughter up out of the basket, intending to carry her in his arms – something he'd found he was rather fond of, to his great surprise.

   "Jack, you'll wake her."

   Jack rolled his eyes at Winn's protest, and woke his daughter.  She stared up at him for a moment with dark eyes, then a slow smile spread across her face as if she'd thought about it and decided that Jack was worthy enough to receive the toothless grin.  "There's my merry little changeling," Jack quietly murmured as he picked her up.  "Tell your momma that you want to spend the day awake, hmm?"  When he looked back at Winn, he saw that she was trying to hide a smile.  He adjusted his hold on Meredith so he could hold her in the crook of one arm, leaving the other free to clasp hands with Winn.  "Let's go."

   They'd walked for several minutes, following a trail that ran north along the cove, before Winn asked, "Were are we going?"

   Jack just smiled and shook his head.  "You'll see soon enough, love."

   Five minutes later, they'd walked into a small clearing that Winn remembered, but there was something in the middle of the clearing that she didn't remember being there before.  She looked at the small house, then looked at Jack.  He had a proud look on his face.  "Go on, Winnie."  He cocked his head at the cottage.  "Go look around."

   With a sense of disbelief, Winn let go of his hand, and walked towards the house.  There was a place laid out in front of it, clearly intended to be a garden once someone took the pains to plant something.  The house itself was unfinished; the exterior still needed a coat of paint, but the roof was finished.  Her hand hovered over the door-latch for a moment before she had the courage to open it.

   The room inside was bare, but complete.  Winn looked around, noticing the big picture windows.  She quickly moved on to see the rest of the house; the smallish kitchen, the several rooms that could serve as bedrooms or a library, or studio if that's what she wanted.  With tears in her eyes, Winn ran back to the main room and found Jack waiting for her.  She came over to him and threw her arms around him, tears leaking from her eyes.  "You did this?" she asked.

   Jack nodded, unsure of what Winn's reaction meant.  He'd found out from Ry and Alex that this had been one of Winn's favorite spots on the estate, so he hoped she liked the location if nothing else.  Tilting her face up, he brushed tears away with his free hand.  "Are these good tears are bad tears?"

   Winn laughed at the look of bewilderment on his face.  Raising herself up on her toes, Winn gave Jack a slow kiss.  When she broke it, she murmured, "What do you think?"  She _loved_ it.  "How did you know?" she asked.  "How did you know that . . . that I wanted a place of my own?  Of _our_ own?  _I_ didn't even know until recently."

   Jack looked down at the ground, pleased but somewhat embarrassed to be found out.  "Don't tell anyone – especially not my crew – but I had the feeling that you might want somewhere to go for a bit of quiet.  Especially once I start leaving for weeks at a time.  Not to mention that it's blasted hard to get a bit of privacy at the main house anymore."  He grinned uncertainly, gold teeth winking in the winter light.  "And I didn't think you'd mind since it's just a ten minute stroll either way should you want to go visit your family, or if they wanted to visit you –"  Winn kissed him again, cutting off the flow of words tumbling from his mouth.  When she pulled away this time, Jack said, "I'll take it that you approve, then."

   "Yes.  I approve _very_ much."  She plucked Meredith from his grasp, and unfolded the blanket she'd carried up with them, setting the child on it.  The baby immediately bent her legs up, trying to fit her toes into her mouth.  Jack looked at the baby, then at Winn, unsure of what he was supposed to do now.  Winn saw that and took pity on him.  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she breathed in his ear, "Maybe I should show you just how appreciative I am."

   Jack rested his hands on her hips, wanting to go along with her suggestion, but worried about what results that might have.  After all they'd been through . . . "Are you sure, Winnie?"

   She was busy tracing the tendons of his neck with her nose, so missed the look in his eyes, but the trace of doubt in his voice came through loud and clear.  "Mmm-hmm.  More than sure.  In fact, I'm certain that if I don't get to display my appreciation soon, I'll regret it for quite awhile."  He still wasn't moving to draw her closer.  "Kiss me, Jack," she ordered.

   He did, his reluctance melting away rather quickly.  He'd forgotten how insistent Winn could be when she wanted to show . . . gratitude.

****************

Winn and Jack walked through Osprey Point rather solemnly, holding hands.  The _Black Pearl_ had arrived the week before, and was now ready to be taken out to sea. They'd both known that this was going to happen, and both tried to console themselves with the thought that for every two weeks that Jack was gone, he'd spend a week with his family, but it was still hard to feel anything but a bit of separation anxiety.

   Winn was holding herself together, playing the captain's wife just as Jack was playing the captain.  This was the way things had to be, for now.  A pirate ship just wasn't the safest of places to raise a child – and Jack had been without his ship for nearly a year now.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent so much time on land.  And although it'd been more than worth it, he was starting to feel the itch to walk on a surface that didn't stay stationary under his feet.  For better or worse, the sea was in his blood.  For better or worse, he'd found a woman who understood that and didn't begrudge the time her husband spent with his impersonal mistress.

   They'd come to the area surrounding the docks without incident when Winn froze.  Jack turned to see what had caught her attention, following the line of her gaze to a group of young boys on a corner.  They were in a circle, clearly tormenting something – an animal or one even one of their own.  Jack instantly knew that Winn was going to break up the small malicious gathering, and tried to stop her, but she was gone before he could so much as lay a restraining hand on her shoulder.  _It's a good thing I'm carrying Mere._

   Jack stood where he was as Winn broke up the circle, giving each boy a thorough tongue-lashing that he knew they'd remember.  He could imagine what her face looked like; her eyes were most likely flashing with righteous anger, fury would be radiating from her small form, her hair glinting in the sun.  He remembered the night of Elizabeth and Will's wedding, how she'd downed him with one of those small fists, and how she'd been a dark-haired fury straight out of a Norse myth.  Was it any wonder he loved the bloody woman, even if she did put herself in situations like this?

   As the circle broke up, he saw the unfortunate soul the boys had been hiding; a young boy was curled into a protective ball in the street, covered in mud and grime, his clothing in tatters.  He walked over, watching as Winn conversed with the one boy who hadn't ran.  He reached her side as she turned the young child over, just in time to see her face go white.  "Winnie?  What's wrong?"

   Winn shook her head as she looked at the boy's face – he looked like the child from those dreams she'd had during her pregnancy.  _". . . keep an eye out – just because you never met me, doesn't mean you won't."_  It wasn't an exact match, but it was close enough that Winn could easily see the resemblance.  In that moment, she knew that her life had just changed again.

   "Winnie?"  Jack rested his hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him.  There was a strange mixture of pain and joy in her eyes, as if she'd just found something she'd thought lost forever.  

   "You can see it, can't you, Jack?"  She looked at him, desperate for him to see the same thing she had.  She rose to her feet, rummaging through the pockets inside his coat.  She'd seen the letter and picture she'd sent him in Port Royal just a few days ago.  With a small cry of triumph, she pulled the papers out, opening the folded picture.  "Look," she pleaded in an insistent voice.

   Jack did, realizing what had upset Winn.  There was a striking resemblance between the boy and the paper.  As he compared the two, he realized what Winn intended to do, and he had no intention of stopping her.  He knew how much she loved their daughter, but he also knew that she still privately mourned the children they'd lost.  If this helped her heal, if it helped keep her occupied, then it was a blessing that he would throw aside.

   He listened as she pried information out of the other street urchin.  The boy's name was Crispin – but everyone called him 'Kit' – his mum was dead and no one knew who his father was, he was young and the other boys picked on him.  Finally the other boy scampered off, with several guineas in his hand, a gift from his tenderhearted wife.  As for Kit, he was still unconscious from the beating he'd just been given.

   "I'm keeping him, Jack."  Winn whispered this declaration fiercely.  "In a few years he can be your cabin boy, or Ry can take him on, or –" Jack laid a finger over her lips.

   "Shh, love.  Of course you're going to keep him.  I've seen what having brothers has done for you.  Do you think I would deny Mere that if it was in my power to do otherwise?"  

   Winn's eyes filled with tears.  "I know this won't bring back the other ones –"

   "But it will help the pain, won't it?"  She looked away.  "I know you still ache from that loss, Winnie, just as I knew there was nothing I could do to help it.  If this will help, take the boy in.  Lord knows I've seen more than enough unfortunate urchins in my lifetime.  If one can find a good home, then I say, take him in."  His wife's silent embrace was all he needed to know that he'd said the right thing.  "I'll help you get him back to the house."

****************

Jack left that evening, but it was with a lighter heart and a clearer conscience than he'd had that morning.  Winn was in good hands.  She was staying at the main house for the time being, until Kit was healthy, had gained several pounds, and had become familiar with the rest of the clan that was staying at Swallows Rest.  The boy would quickly be accepted into the Morgan ranks, and Winn would finally be able to put another part of her past behind her.

   _Not to mention,_ he thought as the small port town slowly shrunk into the distance, _I'll be back in just fourteen days now._  A mischievous smirk spread across his face as he called out orders to his crew.  It was time to lay to rest the rumors that Jack Sparrow was no longer pillaging the seas.  "A pirate's life for me," he whispered as the first real swell ran under the _Pearl_'s bow.  Life was good.

************************************************************

**Author's Note:** well, I hope you're all happy.  I do have some sad news though – there's just the epilogue left before this little gem is complete.  Although, I have some good news as well . . . which will be in the author's note for the epilogue.  Hopefully, I'll have that up sometime next week, so be looking for it.

**Author's Thanks:** once again, I have things to do and little time to write my thanks.  I cannot do individual thanks, but I can thank each individual.  Keep in mind that I _do_ read each and every review and that I treasure and find encouragement from each one.

So, with that in mind, thanks go to: **SuzzieQue**, **lilitaliandragon**, **KawaiiRyu**, **Dawnie****-7**, **KamikazeCreamPuff**, **pirate-miss**, **Kontara**, **Curiosity** **Inc**., **VagrantCandy**, **bobo3**, **Clover** **the** **Sea-Beast**, **Golden** **Rose3**, **Alej**, **Lila** **Elensar**, **Eledhwen**, **Omala** **Moola** (Umm, you can rock my sister's John Mayer CD), **Piper8288**, **emma436** (my sister says you'd better be the first person to review her new story when she uploads it on Monday.), **pendragginink**, and **Erica** **Dawn**.


	36. End Notes

With much regret, I inform you that there will not be an epilogue to 'Caught by the Past.'  I strongly feel that adding anything else to the story at this point would take away from an ending I am very happy with.  This has been long and sometimes difficult trek for me, and I am glad to say that this story is complete.  I am ready to move on to another story.

Yes, I am going to be writing still.  **On March 1st, bobo3 and I will be posting a story called 'Twisting Fate' that will be a continuation of both her story (Four-Sided Eyes) and 'Caught by the Past.'**  For the most part, I will be taking a secondary role in the process (well, kinda), as will most of my characters.  'Twisting Fate' will be a story focusing on Kendra and Alex.  The prologue for that one will pick up this story from three or four months after the end of 'Past.'  And while our main focus will shift, Winn, Jack, Will, Elizabeth, and even dear Marty will be making appearances.  I recommend you go read bobo3's story now so that you will be prepared to start this new adventure with us.  **Important:** 'Twisting Fate' will be posted under bobo3's screen name, not mine, so you might want to put her on your author alert list if she's not there already.

If you're wanting to read stories that are purely mine, then I suggest you read 'One Shot' – a collection of one scene stories and character write-ups that I'm slowly but surely adding on to.  Also, **I will be writing a story that will revolve around Meredith,** if any of you are interested.  I intend to take a month off from writing 'full-time' to develop the idea that I have there.  I hope to have that story up by the first of April.  It will be called 'A Sparrow's Wings' and I intend it to be a humor/action/adventure.

Also, for you who may be interested, I do indeed have a little sister who does indeed write PotC fanfics.  She writes under the name 'Rebel lady' and some of her stories are: There's Your Trouble, Again, and My Father, the Pirate.  There's more, but I don't remember all of them.  Please do go read them though.  Also, I recommend Pirates of the 21st Century: A Modernized Sequel by Mrs. NC, The Sundered Map by Ariandir, jackfan2's story, which I can't remember the name of at the moment, and More Than Eyes Alone Can See which is a Once Upon a Time in Mexico fic by my friend Neon Daises.

In a moment I will be thanking each person who took the time to review or send me comments, encouragement, or nitpicky details that I missed.  First I would like to as if you, as reviewers and my informal editors, would do two things: tell me what you liked the best and the worst, and if there's any areas I need to go back and correct/rework.  Now.  On to my thanks.

Writing fanfiction really is a collaborative effort.  I write, and everyone who reviews, or puts me on a favorites list, or an author alert list really encourages me.  If I were doing this purely for myself, you'd never see any of it.  ^_^  So, because you are all wonderful and because I notice, read, reread, and appreciate each review, here's my deepest thanks (in chronological order) to:

**Savvy-Z ~~ Niamn McNamara ~~ lilitaliandragon  ~~ jackfan2 ~~ Siremaik ~~ unicorn87 ~~ Clover the Sea-Beast ~~ mooney ~~ Tierra ~~ Akiva ~~ pendragginink ~~ aLNiCa ~~ bobo3 ~~ captainsparrowsfiestylass ~~BeBe ~~eva ~~ KawaiiRyu ~~Savvy Sparrowhawk ~~ poppet ~~ari greenleaf  ~~ Savvylicious ~~jigglykat ~~ ****Mrs.**** NC  ~~ PeleAmelika ~~ KamikazeCreamPuff ~~ mooranda ~~ Phoenix Flight ~~ Kontara ~~ Erica ~~ completeopposites ~~ Ariandir ~~ SuzzieQue ~~ eva ~~ Rose ~~ Lieke ~~ LadyKaGoMe409 ~~ ao_hoshi ~~ Eledhwen ~~ Talabar ~~ SassyQ ~~ Ginny-Star ~~ Honor ~~ saiya-gurl ~~ Rebel lady ~~ Arwen Lune ~~ scratchykat ~~ Khamul ~~ Alej ~~ pirates ~~ VagrantCandy ~~ pirate-miss ~~ Rhiannon ~~ EstleWolfe ~~ Kerry ~~ nightskyflight ~~ mollymo ~~ EricaDawn ~~ Jae-Ken-Pyon ~~ bboarding323 ~~ SprklingSatine ~~ RusticZebra ~~ Leandra52 ~~ madlilmonkeys8r ~~ Ursula ~~ pirate-princess ~~ Dawnie-7 ~~ DogStar ~~ Daze19 ~~ WakingDream ~~ _bebe.flip ~~ Vimana Feral ~~ Golden Rose3 ~~ BlueTrinity ~~ Lila Elensar ~~ CrazyCanoeingGIT ~~Artemis Rain ~~ CaptainJackSparrowsGirl ~~ Beak ~~ Circe-Asteria ~~ Berne ~~ Belle ~~ RadioActiveSocks ~~ georgie b ~~ Curiosity Inc. ~~ Breeze ~~ Alli ~~ Piper8188 ~~ nebber ~~ Omala Moola ~~ emma436 ~~ missjackiesparrow ~~ JackSparrowSavvy**

Wow, there's a lot of you.  ^_^  Now, I'd be very disappointed if I didn't hear from you all again.  Please let me know if you'd like me to e-mail you when I have a new story up or if I post a new one shot, and please give my your e-mail so I can do so.

Thank you for making this story as enjoyable an experience as 'Inconvenient' was.

Fair winds,

Sarah


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